


Plus One

by onlymywishfulthinking



Series: Plus One [1]
Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family Issues, James's PoV, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mentions of Racism, Mentions of past abuse, Mentions of past homophobia, One Night Stands, Unknown Identity, Weddings, set in october 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlymywishfulthinking/pseuds/onlymywishfulthinking
Summary: Jarry AU set in Oct 2018 - Verity bribes her business partner James to be her plus one at her nephew's wedding. James meets a handsome stranger at a bar the night before. One thing leads to another!!The young man glances over at him curiously, peeling on the sticker on his beer bottle. He has the prettiest big blue eyes James has ever seen. They are warm and tender. But there seems to be an overcast of sorrow blocking the light he imagines normally should be shining from them.
Relationships: James Nightingale/Harry Thompson
Series: Plus One [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952287
Comments: 27
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am a year after you know what posting Jarry fics bc I love them 😭  
> FYI: this fic is 100% in James's point of view.
> 
> I'm not a native English speaker so there's most likely some grammatical errors in here, hopefully, nothing too extreme. If you see anything, let me know 👍
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jarry AU - Verity bribes her business partner James to be her plus one at her nephew's wedding. James meets a handsome stranger at a bar the night before. One thing leads to another!!
> 
> Set: October 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am a year after you know what posting Jarry fics bc I love them 😭  
> FYI: this fic is 100% in James's point of view.
> 
> I'm not a native English speaker so there's most likely some grammatical errors in here, hopefully, nothing too extreme. If you see anything, let me know 👍
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!!

Autumn is in full bloom and the trees have turned their hues, painting a beautiful colourful scenery outside his window. James loves it here. After five years in law school and seven years practising he finally has his own firm that he’s built up from scratch.

Well, he and his two partners built it together. But he was the one who brought along the biggest clients and pitched in the most capital. That’s why he’s got the big corner office with the fantastic London view. And why his name is first on the golden plaque on the front door. But most importantly that’s why he holds the majority in the company shares.

He’s sorting through some documents on the current case he’s working on when Verity pops into his office. She has a determined yet odd look on her face. It can’t bode well. He lowers his head down again continuing his work, hoping she’ll just go away.

She doesn’t.

“Whatever you have planned for this afternoon and tomorrow - cancel it. My half-brother’s son is getting married and you are going to be my plus one.”

It’s as he expected, nothing good. He keeps sifting through the papers on his desk without looking up at her. “Surely that falls under Sami’s boyfriend duties?” he points out.

“He’s got the flu. The _man_ variety.”

He hasn’t even noticed Sami’s absence from the office today. Not that he usually cares what his partner is up to. As long as Sami’s bringing in money for their firm he doesn’t really spare any thoughts on where or what Sami does each day.

“Pity. I don’t do weddings,” he answers her cooly, still not looking up at her.

Invitations to weddings, christenings and funerals, they always receive a ‘ _Thank you but no thank you_ ’ reply from him. Why should he make an exception for Verity this time? She’s his business partner but that’s it. He doesn’t make exceptions for anyone.

“You do now,” she insists. He doesn’t have to look to know that she’s just crossed her arms over her chest. “I have to play the dutiful aunt. But it’s in this ghastly little village up in the north near Chester. I’ve been there before and I simply refuse to go on my own this time.”

He rolls his eyes. She is unrelenting. Even her voice is vexing now. But he has to say he’s unimpressed by her tactics. Her reasonings for dragging him along to this wedding are very weak and selfish. She can’t know him at all if she thinks he’ll relent and go with her on such a poor basis.

“As lovely as that sounds, I can’t. I have plans,” he replies simply and rises from his chair, giving her a tight smile.

He gathers up his papers in a folder and tucks them down his briefcase. He has an important lunch meeting in 15 minutes. He needs to go now or he’ll run late.

“Your monthly trip to pick up a new rentboy doesn’t hold up, I’m afraid,” she counters. Apparently, she _does_ know him quite well after all. “Besides, you’ll be able to pick someone up for free at the wedding. Imagine it, the whole singles table salivating at the sight of you. And half the married men too.”

He knows she’s trying to sweet-talk him but he’s one step ahead of her. “Straight weddings aren’t exactly loaded with gay men.” He realises how heteronormative his comment sounds after the words slip out. He’s out and proud but some things still linger since childhood, engraved in him from society as well as having been brought up by a homophobic father.

He picks up his briefcase and grabs his coat, heading for the door. He needs to get away from Verity before she makes him agree to go with her one way or another. She seems awfully determined not to let him get out of this.

“Lucky this is a gay wedding then so you’ll have your pick. Remember the best things in life come for free,” she lectures and wags her finger at him. It’s annoying.

Gay wedding or not, he’s not going to accompany her to it. He takes a step forward but she blocks his escape route. He glares at her but she doesn’t shift. For such a tiny person she sure does take up a lot of space. He tries to push past her but she only strengthens her stance. It’s impossible.

He comes to the conclusion that he needs to be more assertive. “I’m not going!” he tells her firmly but he ends up sounding more like a petulant teenager than a 32-year-old man.

She sighs heavily and he can tell that she’s working something over in her head.

“I’ll give you the Murray and Johnson merger,” she offers exasperatedly when he tries to push past her again.

He pauses briefly to mull it over. He specializes in criminal defence but he’s equally as skilled in all the other sectors of the law. Murray and Johnson is a high profile corporate merger that landed on Verity’s desk yesterday. Now, this case may just be worth the nuisance of attending the wedding as her plus one. As well as having to keep her entertained during the time there. He can live with that.

“Deal,” he smirks and shakes her hand before he walks out triumphantly. Another battle won.

After his lunch meeting, he heads home to pack a small suitcase. They’re already leaving in two hours. Verity informs him that the dress code for the wedding is smart-casual so he forgoes his usual posh three-piece suits. Instead, he opts for his beige checkered jacket and trouser combo. Pairing it with his maroon shirt and tie and his favourite pair of cognac coloured Oxford shoes.

Verity lets him decide if they should take the train or her car up to Chester. First-class train fares aren’t exactly what they used to be. Any Tom, Dick and Harry can buy a ticket for a relatively low cost nowadays and ruin the whole ambience of what first-class truly means. So he opts for her Porsche Cayman instead. A two seated, 300 horsepowers, red speedster. He’s always had a weak spot for flash cars. Verity even lets him drive it just to keep him extra sweet.

He is doing her a huge favour accompanying her to a dreary village in the middle of nowhere at the end of October. Even though he has accepted her bribe of the high profile merger he still finds it tedious that he’s got to do this particular thing in return. Weddings have never been his scene. The news forecast says there is a storm coming in too. Sounds like perfect weather for an outdoor ceremony.

The trip up to Chester is about a 4-hour long drive. When they reach halfway, they stop at a petrol station to use the facilities and to buy coffee and fruit. The coffee is nothing like the expensive Peruvian beans he grinds at home. Nothing can compare to that splendour. But the caffeine does its designated job. Even in the form of the cheapest water-downed coffee, it’s keeping him alert as he continues to drive through the English countryside.

Verity has booked them each a suite at the Chester Grosvenor Hotel. Five stars, of course. It’s what he deserves. It’s about a 30-minute drive from Hollyoaks village where the wedding is supposed to take place the following day.

Verity has already made plans with some old colleagues for the evening and she heads into Manchester after the two of them have supper together at the restaurant at the hotel. That leaves James to spend the rest of the evening all on his own. Only he rather have some fun and that means company of the naked kind.

A quick internet search later and he finds a gay bar - 6T9. He wouldn’t mind a bit of that this evening. According to Google Maps, the bar is only a 7-minute walk from the hotel. It’s perfect.

He’s still in the same dark grey three-piece suit he wore to work this morning. A bit too overdressed for a seedy bar but he doesn’t really have a choice. He has nothing to change into, he’s only packed for the wedding plus fresh underwear. At least he was clever enough to bring a spare dress shirt that he can change into. It’s blue and goes perfectly with his navy polka dot tie.

He takes a quick shower to freshen up, finishing off by spritzing a liberal new coating of his Clarins Eau Dynamisante fragrance all over his body. It’s a clean yet rich, uplifting, warm and zesty herbal essence of botanical sophistication and it suits him to a T.

It’s around 9 pm when he gets there. It’s a smallish club but looks decent enough. There is quite a bit of folk filling up the place for a Thursday evening. He feels more out of place in his three-piece suit than he’d expected. Everyone else is wearing jeans and a vary of plain long and short sleeve tops and the few occasional smarter shirts. He’s definitely standing out in the crowd, garnering him quite a bit of attention. Maybe the suit wasn’t such a bad thing after all?

The walls of the club are painted red which casts a rosy iridescent glow around him. The pulsing rainbow coloured disco lights make it flow lively through the room. Annoying techno-pop dance music is blaring from the speakers, as so often in these places. He’s more of an opera and classical music kind of a man himself.

He scans over the room, looking for someone that seems worthy of his company. He’s not actually done this for quite some time. It must have been a couple of years even. He has been too busy with excelling at work. And then setting up his law firm and trying to attract high profile clients. He’s not had any spare time to go out and find men to date or even just to fuck. That’s why he’s been relying on rentboys. They require no flirting nor do they demand any foreplay, just straight down to business and then they leave. Easy and effective.

Quite a few men are trying to get him to notice them across the room but he pays them no mind. There’s someone else that’s captured his full attention. He’s spotted a dark blonde young man sitting alone at the far corner of the bar, nursing a beer. He can’t be more than 21. Young and handsome. He’s wearing a red short-sleeved polo shirt. It stretches tightly over his chest and tanned arms, showing off his fit physique.

He’s the one that he wants. He’s exactly the kind of bed-warmer James is looking for after a long drive and the boring wedding ahead of him.

James watches him for a bit longer, trying to get a feel for how to best approach him with a successful outcome. The weight of the world seems to sit on the handsome stranger’s muscular shoulders. A shame for such a gorgeous creature.

In the short time he’s been there he’s already witnessed two guys, both younger and fitter than himself, get turned down by the looker at the bar. They walk up, make their play and then Mr Gorgeous shuts them down immediately, one after another. The odds aren’t exactly stacking up in James’s favour. But he’s always liked a challenge.

He quickly decides it’s time to make his move before anyone else comes and tries to snatch his chosen one away. He slides up next to the dark blonde trying to get eye contact. “Drinking the troubles away?” James asks over the semi loud music in the background. He’s going for the softer approach, easing in gently. “Mind if I join you? I have a few things I’d rather forget myself.”

Mr Gorgeous nods at him, approving his request and James sits down on the barstool next to the Adonis. The feeling of smugness and invincibility eggs him on. He’s not been turned away like the others. Not yet at least.

The young man glances over at him curiously, peeling on the sticker on his beer bottle. He has the prettiest big blue eyes James has ever seen. They are warm and tender. But there seems to be an overcast of sorrow blocking the light he imagines normally should be shining from them.

He slips out of his coat and pulls out his wallet. “Whiskey, two fingers,” James calls over to the bartender. He nods his head towards his bar mate’s beer, inclining for him to order something too.

“Another one,” blue eyes requests, holding up the empty bottle to the bartender. He twists his head, glancing over at James again. “Thanks.”

“You look like you need it.”

The comment makes the young man groan, pulling a hand over his face and look away. He’s shifting the beer bottle over the coaster back and forth like a nervous tick. “Is it really that obvious? Although, you’re the only one who’s noticed,” he informs him and cracks a wry smile, looking back at James again. “Everyone else in here just wanna get into my pants.”

James knows he is pushing it this early on but he has to take a chance and test the waters and this is the perfect in. There’s being direct and then there’s being direct veiled in charm.

“Who’s to say I don’t share the same aspiration? They’re very nice pants after all,” he smirks, a tone of mischief in his voice.

James’s eyes drift down to the tight dark denim jeans that look to be moulded to the thick thighs and round ass of their wearer. The lining of the pants is peaking up, revealing the imprinted Calvin Klein brand. His object of desire follows his line of sight and rolls his eyes as he notices it too, but he smiles amused. It’s a good sign already.

“At least you’re more suave about it,” the dark blonde chuckles and his blue eyes glints.

James hears the incorrect grammar of the sentence but lets it go. This is not the time to be a grammar police. The young man has a real smile on his lips. It’s cute. Very cute, just like the rest of him. His teeth are a little crooked and uneven but it only heightens the charm he exudes. He looks perfect just the way he is. Warmth floods James’s belly as he’s taking him in. He wouldn’t change a thing about him.

The bartender shows up with their ordered drinks and he takes a swig of the whiskey. It burns warm and energizing inside of him. He watches fascinated as his new companion’s plump lips wrap around the ring of the beer bottle. It’s practically sinful. He can’t wait until they’re wrapped around his cock instead.

He usually goes for the kill at this stage but he decides to delay it. He actually does want to know what could possibly be troubling such a gorgeous young man. He’s suddenly feeling charitable too. Maybe he can even help him somehow?

“Care to tell me your woes? I’m a lawyer. I know how to be discreet,” James promises him sincerely.

“Tonight’s my stag do,” comes the answer without delay.

It’s not what James expects to hear and definitely not what he wants to hear either. Unavailable men are a lot more difficult to bed. But nothing’s impossible. He knows from experience.

There’s also a building feeling of jealousy and disappointment that grows inside of him that someone got there before him. Not that he can see this extraordinary beauty go single for long.

“Not a big gathering I take it?”

“Nah, told my dad I wanted to spend it with my mates. Told my mates I was gonna spend it with my dad. It’s not exactly something I think is worth celebrating.”

The answer is surprising and quite interesting and now James really wants to know more. He notices there’s no engagement ring on the young man’s hand either. “For someone getting married, you sure don’t sound awfully excited about it.”

The young man is back to pulling on the sticker of the beer bottle, eyes staring down at his own fumbling fingers. “You wouldn’t be either if you were in my shoes.”

James doesn’t extend his empathy to people very lightly but he sounds so melancholy James truly feels sorry for him. He’s clearly trapped in a loveless relationship and that’s no fun. James knows that from experience too.

He’s also learned the hard way that sometimes the simplest of acts is the best solution to a difficult problem. “So cancel it,” he suggests and is met with sorrowful eyes.

“Can’t. It’s too late now anyway,” Mr Gorgeous sighs and gulps down the rest of his beer in one go. James finishes his whiskey to keep up with him.

“Why?” he asks, wanting to understand the situation. He’s still wearing a questioning frown when the young man looks over at him again, his beautiful face sad and hopeless.

“It’s complicated, okay?” the young man says a bit sharper. He drags a hand over his face in clear frustration and sits up taller, twisting closer on his barstool. “Look, I don’t wanna bore you with all my problems,” he adds, gesturing with his hands. His voice is calmer but he looks ready to run off into the night. James can’t let that happen now he’s found him.

All this talk of weddings has put a damper on the conversation. He wants to see that beautiful smile again. This man, in particular, deserves to smile tonight with his mind occupied on other things. Preferably his hands and mouth occupied with James’s body.

“How could anyone be bored with your company? Just looking at you is the highlight of my year thus far,” James compliments him sweetly. He may be starting to feel the effects of the whiskey but he’s not exaggerating. It’s the truth, this is the highlight of this year thus far, however sad that might sound. He can even say it’s the highlight for many years back apart from starting his own law firm.

That sweet smile makes itself known again, just like James wanted. Even if it’s accompanied by a roll of the blue eyes. “Listen, I appreciate the drink and the chat but you can do so much better than me,” the young man tries to persuade him.

James leans in closer and a flirty grin hangs on his lips. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” It’s clear that this stunning man’s self-confidence isn’t what it ought to be. James is determined to change that.

The plush lips smile at him again, smirks even. “And I’m obviously off the market anyway so,” he states but James can see that his eyes tell him something different, his whole body language tells him differently.

“Mmm, obviously.”

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

James takes the extended hand in greeting, wrapping his fingers firmly over the back of the soft but strong hand. “James Nightingale.”

“Nice name, suits you.” The blue eyes twinkle again.

“Are you flirting with me?” he gasps teasingly, hand on his chest. “Thought you were off the market?” James knows he’s halfway in already.

Harry bites his lip smiling and looks down at his beer bottle. It’s almost as if he’s shy all of a sudden. “Well, you’re the first one in here that’s actually made me look twice so...”

Warmth floods him and he grins triumphantly, very pleased by the confession. “There you go again complimenting me. I thought I was supposed to seduce you?” James teases some more since Harry seems to enjoy it as much as he does.

The blue eyes turn back to him, flirty and sparkling with mischief. “Better keep up then.”

James raises his brows in challenge. “Oh, I intend to,” he smirks, licking his lips. There’s no doubt that he’s taking Harry back to the hotel tonight.

He twists closer on the barstool and their knees touch. There’s a charged moment that hangs in the air. It lingers. Just them gazing at each other. It feels special. He can’t really put words to it but it makes the pit of his stomach flutter expectantly.

Harry looks away first but he grins down at his hands that are wrapped around the beer bottle. He looks up again and cocks his brow, clearing his voice. “So Nightingale, hotshot lawyer. Let me guess, London, right?”

“That’s correct. I’ve got my own law firm there,” James answers proudly. It took a lot of hard work to get it set up but now it’s running smoothly and he’s raking in the rewards.

“Nice. That was my dream, y’know. Living in London, working as a PT or physiotherapist,” Harry shares wistfully, staring into the far distance. His features are marked with resentment as he continues. “Didn’t have a chance to decide on which degree before I had to drop out.”

James raises his eyebrows in slight shock. “Universities have degrees in Sports now? Their credibility really has gone down the drain, hasn’t it?” he snickers, a sly smirk on his lips, knowing it will certainly bring Harry out of his funk.

Harry presses his knee firmer against James’s thigh. “Oi! Cheeky,” he exclaims, pointing at him but is back to smiling that captivating smile. “Sports science is a lot more complicated than you think. Even more so if you’re going for the therapist angle.”

“I’d bet your clients would need all the help they can get.” It’s his turn to press his knee firmly against Harry’s thigh to emphasize his point. “Just one look at you and I’m already weak at the knees.”

“Clever,” Harry grins amused. “I guess I’m just gonna have to work you extra hard then.”

“Looking forward to it,” James smirks back.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and then starts laughing that infectious laugh. He’s breathtaking. That smile, James just can’t get enough of it. It’s fun and easy talking to Harry. It sparks joy, as Marie Kondo would say. It’s the most fun he’s had in a very, _very_ long time. Never has a man captured his interest like this before.

James orders in more rounds, wine this time. The conversation flows between heavily flirting and more serious subjects as they get to know each other. The alcohol is leaving Harry more candid. The few things he does divulge about his fiance it’s no surprise that they’re incompatible and that Harry needs to get out of the relationship as soon as possible. They don’t dwell on it too long though. Harry steers the conversation away from the gloomy reality and shifts closer instead.

They’ve been talking for almost three hours. It’s the longest conversation he’s had outside of work in probably all his life. He surprises himself with how much he enjoys it. It doesn’t feel like three hours though, feels like time has flown by. He’s nowhere near bored but he can’t stop thinking about seeing Harry naked. Can’t stop thinking about his gorgeous full lips.

The beautiful blue eyes study his face intently, scanning over James’s eyes and lips. He smirks pleased at how forward Harry has become, how he doesn’t hold anything back anymore. Harry’s eyelids hang heavy and his teasing smile taunts him. It’s like he’s daring James to kiss him. But Harry will soon find out that he’s the one being dared to kiss James instead.

He places his hand on Harry’s thigh and the beaming smile widens. He slides it up even higher, feeling the heat pulse through the fabric of the tight jeans. He can’t wait to get them off. His fingers squeeze into the densely packed set of thigh muscles and he pushes himself off the barstool. It feels good to stretch out, he’s only been up once for a bathroom break.

Harry looks at him, part excited, part uncertain of what's going on as James slings his coat on. “I think it’s time to retire to the hotel,” he explains.

“Oh,” the young man sighs disappointedly.

James can’t help but chuckle. How Harry can even think that he’s not going to have sex with him tonight is maddening. His self-confidence must really be lower than low.

“You’re coming with me, obviously,” he says matter of factly and the blue eyes light up again, smile bright and wide.

“Oh!” Harry exclaims, chuckling himself.

“If you want to,” James adds.

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” Harry answers straight away.

Harry jumps down from the barstool and they’re stood feet to feet for the first time. He’s short, shorter than James expected. But he likes it, likes it a lot. He pushes Harry back against the bar counter, towering over him. It’s such a turn-on.

The big eyes gaze up at James with a voracious appetite. He slips his hands over the young man’s hips and Harry runs his over James’s coat lapels. James snags him in closer with a quick jerk and Harry grins delightedly. His mouth is inching down to find their playmate but he won’t go all the way. He wants Harry to succumb to him first.

Harry’s eyes drift down from James’s and lands on his lips. That heavy tension sits in the air between them, hot and combustible, like so many times already this evening. It’s as if everything else disappears and it’s just the two of them. It’s never been this intense with anyone else before.

The blue eyes flicker up and down between his lips and eyes as Harry leans up the rest of the way. They fall shut as their lips meet. Harry initiates the kiss, just like James wanted. It’s chaste and sweet. The taste of beer, whiskey and wine mingle between them. One of his hands slides up and cradles Harry’s soft cheek while the other wraps tighter around his back. He wants to feel the young man as close as possible. Harry wraps his arms around James’s neck, fingers raking through his hair, sending shivers down his spine.

The kisses grow more intense, more intimate and his knees feel weak. Those plush lips work against his like it’s their sole purpose on this earth. The arousal that’s been steadily building all night explodes through him and one thing leads to another. He reluctantly has to pull away from the sensational lips. He’s not one for public displays of affection and he’s even less keen on public erections. The look on Harry’s face tells him he’s as dazed as James is.

He grabs Harry’s cognac coloured jacket from the back of the barstool and holds it up for the young man to slip into. “Aw, what a gentleman,” Harry wiggles his eyebrows teasingly and James wishes they were back at the hotel already, clothes coming off instead of on.

Their fingers trace against each other’s as they walk out, side by side. At first, he’s contemplating getting them a taxi, but he thinks better of it. The cool night air will work to sober them both up a little. He wants as much of a clear head as possible for when a naked Harry lays sprawled out on his bed.

10 minutes later they crash into the hotel suite, lips locked and working feverishly against each other. The coats hastily come off and James immediately backs Harry up towards the bed, pulling the red polo shirt over his head. Harry’s hands reach for James’s trousers but he pushes him down on the bed. The young man yelps laughing as he bounces down on the mattress.

James takes a moment to admire the stunning view in front of him. The round muscles of the tanned arms and shoulders. The fantastic pecs, nipples hard and contracted. The gorgeous face awashed with an urgent need for him. What a sight.

Harry kicks his shoes off, sliding up higher on the bed. He bites into his plump bottom lip, looking up under his long lashes and spreads his legs wide. “What ya waiting for? Come-’ere,” Harry beckons, voice low and raspy.

James doesn’t need telling twice and slots down between the welcoming thighs. Harry gets a good grip around the back of his neck, kissing and licking fat stripes up to his ear. James groans out, shivering against his new lover in his arms, grinding crotch to crotch.

He reaches a hand down between them, squeezing over Harry’s growing bulge, it’s already firming up nicely. Suddenly Harry pushes him away. First, he fears it’s because the groom-to-be has changed his mind but that’s not the case, thankfully.

“Gonna need help getting these off,” Harry nods down to his jeans.

James sits back on his knees below him. He cocks his brow and smirks. “I’ll get them off, don’t you worry.”

It’s easier said than done. He’s just managed to get the troublesome jeans down Harry’s ass after a lot of hard work and now they’re stuck over the knees instead. How Harry gets any blood circulation in this torture device, he doesn’t know.

“God, your jeans are tight. Could you have been wearing anything more inconvenient?” he complains frustrated.

Harry wiggles his legs on the bed laughing, pushing from the top while James is pulling from the ankles. “Didn’t know I was gonna meet you, did I? So wasn’t exactly planning on taking them off in a hurry. Looks good though, no?”

“Oh _that_ they do. But is it worth it?”

“It’s worth getting them off. Come on, Nightingale. Pull harder!” Harry laughs even louder, his beautiful face happy and carefree. As it should be.

“Finally!” The sheer force the jeans come off the last bit over the ankles almost knocks James off the bed. But he quickly recovers back to his original position kneeling in front the sprawled out gorgeous young man.

Harry’s cock is cupped exquisitely in the white pair of Calvins. The bulging erection is straining against the cotton fabric, practically begging James to set it free. He licks his lips, wide eyes taking in the magnificent view in front of him once again.

Harry grins up at him, lids heavy with lust, urging him on without words. James slides his hands up over his younger lover. All the way from his boney ankles, around the strong calves, back up over his knees and then slow and teasingly along the inside of his dense thighs.

Harry arches his back in flow with James’s strokes, hips lifting up and down in slow rolls. He can’t stop staring, Harry’s just beyond gorgeous. He can see the twitches under the boxer fabric, dick swelling up harder from his touch. And he can feel his own straining inside his pants.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Harry chuckles and runs his left foot over James’s chest and down the front of his trousers, pushing him back.

It’s a great idea. He reaches into his inner suit pocket and grabs his phone, opening up the camera. Harry isn’t shy, that’s for sure. He poses for him, eyes closed, mouth hanging open and a hand wrapped around his hard cock over the white boxers. He’s so hot, so sexy.

But enough of the pictures, James wants the real deal now. He puts the phone back and concentrates closer on his lover’s stunning body. He traces his fingers over Harry’s erection and the young man moans approvingly. It’s beautiful.

Time has dragged on for far too long and Harry’s still not naked. James hooks a finger under the waistband, ready to get things moving along. “Now for the grand prize,” he grins excitedly, tugging on the boxers.

“Hey, no no, not so fast, Nightingale,” Harry chides, slapping his eager fingers away.

Harry sits up and gets to his knees, facing him. He runs his hands down the lapels of the dark grey suit, eyes scanning every inch of him. “It’s your turn now. All this gotta go.”

He should have known from the taunting smiles that Harry’s a tease in the bedroom. But he likes it. Likes the to and from, the give and take. This is how it should be. This is how he really wants it.

Harry pushes the suit jacket off his shoulders and then replaces it with his hands. The tender fingers press into his tired and overworked muscles. A pleasurable ache seeps from them and James sighs heavily, eyes falling shut briefly.

The young man tilts his chin up capturing his mouth in a slow dance of kisses, tongue working over his. James’s palms find their way around Harry’s body, sliding down the curved back and into his boxers, squeezing that lush ass in his hands. Their erections press together through their clothes, leaving mirrored moans against each other’s mouths.

The buttons of his waistcoat flick open and his tie is loosened and removed from around his neck. Harry’s nimble fingers work over James’s shirt buttons, starting to pop them open one by one. “Too many buttons,” Harry complains against his lips when he’s made it halfway down.

“Consider it payback,” James snickers but unbuttons his cufflinks nonetheless. He needs to hurry things along. He’s gonna come in his pants if this teasing and grinding go on for much longer.

When the shirt has come undone and been discarded and the trousers come off with one swift and easy pull, he’s graciously allowed to remove Harry’s boxers. The Calvins hang low on the prominent hips, showing off the dipping v curve. There’s still a tan line left from the summer sun and the treasure trail leads the way down below the belly button to the main attraction.

He’s finally about to pull the boxers off when Harry slides out of the bed and out of his reach. “Such a tease,” James grumbles and huffs.

Harry laughs heartily and sways back and forth, easing the boxers down agonizingly slow. He knows just how to rile him up. “This what you gagging for?” he wiggles his eyebrows, taunting smile on his lips and then the boxers finally drop to the floor.

James sucks in a sharp breath. Harry’s very, _very_ impressive. Both long and thick, foreskin stretched back over the swollen pink head. “Fuck.” His mouth waters at the thought of what’s to come.

Harry wraps a hand around himself, fisting up and down with slow strokes, grinning wickedly at him. “You now,” he commands and James yanks his underwear off straight away. His tall, flush erection bobs up against his stomach, aching to be touched by Harry.

“Nice cock. Suits you,” Harry appraises and smirks, licking his lips. “You got condoms, lube?”

“My coat pocket. Picked some up earlier.”

“Planning on getting lucky, were ya?”

James’s eyes are peeled to the wondrous body and fantastic ass. It’s a glorious view as Harry bends over to rummage around in his coat pockets. He swallows hard, trying to remember how to breathe. “Very lucky indeed.”

The condoms and lube are placed on the nightstand and his lover gets back onto the bed with him. Harry drags his fingers over James’s hair covered chest, teasing the nipples before he looks him in the eye.

“So.. I’m verse. So whatever you want is fine,” he offers, hand still roaming over James’s chest.

“So am I.”

“Oh, guess we’re gonna have to wrestle for it. But we already know who’s winning that though,” Harry laughs, lips pulled into a smug grin. His hand pushes with more strength against James’s chest, moving him down towards the pillows.

James cocks his brow, hands sliding up over Harry’s arms. “You’re that confident, are you?”

“Mmhmm.” Harry slams him down the last bit of the way and slides on top of him, kissing him passionately. Their hands roam over each other’s bodies, touching anything they can reach. He’s lucky he’s laying down or his knees would truly buckle under the salacious touches.

Harry gives him one last hard press of his lips and then he descends down James’s stomach and settles between his thighs. The plush lips he’s spent hours admiring suckle gloriously at his head. He gazes down at the wet hot mouth and Harry smiles up at him through his eyes and winks. He doesn’t want to miss a second of the way Harry’s talented mouth wraps around him, bobbing up and down. But his eyes fall shut by their own accord and his head tilts back, low vibrating moans leaving his throat. It’s just too good.

He has to beg Harry to stop or he’ll come too soon. His lover does as he’s told, looking very smug as he comes face to face with him again. He holds James down kissing him slowly, licking into his mouth with that musky taste of James’s coated on his tongue. Harry hooks his leg around his and presses down harder, grinding into him. He’s very strong, stronger than James that’s for sure, despite his smaller stature.

James assembles all the muscle power he’s got and pushes back against Harry’s strong arms. He quickly rolls them over so he’s on top of Harry instead. The young man laughs with delight, eyes sparkling even bluer if that’s possible. He crashes his mouth down over the grinning lips, practically eating Harry’s mouth off. Harry’s hands settle over his ass, squeezing into his flesh tightly, hips grinding desperately as their bodies slot together again.

It’s James’s turn to explore more closely and he swallows Harry down without delay. He tastes like a dream, musky sweet and showery fresh. Harry’s hips buck up and down as he sucks him hard, flicking his tongue around the velvety skin. Harry moans his name beautifully, stroking his hand through his hair. James loves it, the effect he has on him. He pulls off with a pop and fists him roughly, watching that sinful mouth gasp in pleasurable groans.

A thin film of sweat coats Harry’s soft skin. He kisses his way up over the taut abs. He can’t get enough of the scent his lover exudes, manly and vibrant. He suckles on one of the nipples while he flicks the other, earning words of praise. There’s so much James wants to touch and taste at the same time, he hardly knows where to go next.

His lips glide down the soft skin again, chin dragging over the defined abs. Harry giggles and squirms against him. “Your beard tickles.”

“Sorry.”

James pulls away but Harry stops him, stroking his hands down the bearded cheeks, pupils blown in his big blue eyes. “No, don’t stop. I like it,” he smiles sweetly. He’s both sexy and adorable, a deadly combination.

“Oh well, in that case,” James grins back in full force, knowing what he wants to do. He flips Harry over, earning another set of joyful giggles.

With the stunning round ass on full display, he dives in, coating him in his saliva. “Fuck, James,” Harry mutters into the pillow, bucking his ass further up, wanting more.

James presses his tongue firmly against the rim, sucking and licking the delicate skin. The ass cheeks jiggle deliciously in his hands. He could stay buried between them for a lifetime if it was up to him. He increases the suction, lapping Harry up like a hungry beast, nose pressed deep into the top of the cleft. He can’t get enough of him.

It’s James’s turn to feel smug when Harry twists around claiming he’s gonna come if James keeps eating him out like that. Harry drags him up to his mouth instead, kissing him ardently, wanton moans escaping as he tastes himself.

In the end, Harry wrestles him back down into the mattress. James doesn’t care who tops or bottoms tonight. He’s good with either way. He trusts Harry, he feels comfortable with him to open up and lay himself bare. It’s clear that the young man wants to top him and he’s happy to let him. He plans to return the favour for round two anyway.

Harry opens him up slow and careful, kissing him the whole time through. The richly lube-covered fingers breach him one by one, twisting and pulling at his muscle, making him gasp and arch into it. Harry packs quite the girth, James needs the extra time it takes to be certain he’s stretched enough.

Harry even manages to find his prostate, something very few men have done before him. The euphoric shots of pleasure burn through him in little shockwaves from the sensitive bundle of nerves. Is there anything this man can’t make him feel?

There’s a chaise lounge by the foot of the bed. It’s lower than the bed itself. It’s the perfect height for James to kneel on, providing Harry with the perfect angle to plough into him from behind. It accommodates impeccably to their height difference.

And what a way he ploughs. James’s eyes keep rolling back in his head and he can’t keep the moans at bay. Harry sounds equally as enthusiastic from behind him, hands gripped firmly around James’s hips as he pumps into him. The sheet crumples in James’s fists and the lewd comments of appraisal escape him like a religious chant. It’s never been this good before. He’s never been this turned on before.

Harry pulls out and pushes him up the kingsize bed, flipping him over. He loves the way the younger man takes charge of him but he also loves to push back into his touch to challenge him and, by the looks of it, Harry like it too.

James’s chest is heaving as he stares down at the gorgeous man kneeling at his feet. “I wanna see you when you come,” Harry grins seductively, looking him up and down.

His lover crawls after him, stopping to tug James’s twitching cock in his hand a few times. He kisses and bites gently into the inside of James’s thigh, leaving him shivering. Harry continues his journey, alternating between soft kisses and teasing licks up over the expanse of his tall body all the way to his lips. They kiss leisurely for a while, hands sliding sensually over their damp skin. He needs this pause or he’ll be coming in just a few seconds.

Harry leans up on his strong muscular arms, engulfing him. James runs his hand down Harry’s beautiful face and to the nape of his neck, fingertips digging into his dark blonde hair. The young man arches into his touch, pressing their bodies together again.

Harry pushes into him bit by bit and James’s eyes roll back in his head. It’s the perfect stretch, filling him up warm and whole. The slow and torturously satisfying grind of the undulating hips is rendering him speechless. He pulls Harry down again, kissing those soft delectable lips. He slips his tongue in and out of Harry’s mouth in the same slow measured pace as Harry’s drags in and out of him.

It’s quickly becoming too good to bear. James has held off his orgasm so many times already he can’t do it again. Harry grins down at him through his overwhelming look of ecstasy. “Yeah, look at me,” the young man commands and he’s more than happy to comply. He never wants to stop looking at Harry. The blue eyes bore into his with such intensity he almost feels dizzy. It’s as if the floodgates have opened since he met Harry and he’s feeling things he long thought lay repressed. Feelings he’s never felt to this extent before.

His lover laces their fingers together and holds him down against the mattress again. Harry’s not letting him move them at all as he presses back to challenge him. The rolling hips moving against him snap into him harder and faster, James pushes his hips back, meeting the thrusts in equal measure.

That deep burning sensation shoots through him ferociously. He cries out loudly as the orgasm overtakes him, and he comes untouched. Thick ropes of cum coat his stomach as his cock contracts in the extensive release he’s held off for so long.

Harry follows closely behind, groaning deep and guttural, stuttering his hips as he comes inside of him. He’s an incredible sight to see, his beautiful face adorned in rapture bestowed to him by James. His lover collapses down against him, chest heaving on top of his own laboured one.

Harry lets go of his hands and slips his palms around his shoulders instead, hands resting in James’s hair. He burrows his nose deep in the crook of James’s neck. “Fuck,” Harry groans, hot breath tickling his skin.

“Sensational,” James reflects out loud, too spent to say anything more. He places his hands around Harry’s waist, hugging him tightly against his chest. Any other man would have been dismissed from the bed already and instructed to leave. But not Harry. If James wasn’t so infatuated he’d fall asleep almost instantly. Now he wants to spend every second awake to delay their inevitable parting.

Sex is a lot more fun with Harry. And so much better. It’s been good before but this is different. It has heart and emotions he never expected to find in a one night stand. It feels real like there are genuine feelings involved from both parties. Something he’s been missing but dismissing he’s been wanting for years now. He’s actually turned on because of how much he likes Harry and not just because he possesses a breathtakingly sexy body. He has intellectual and emotional intelligence. He’s sweet, funny, clever. He’s the whole package deal.

He trails a finger down Harry’s sweat-soaked back, tracing circles over the warm skin. “My business partner was right. The best things in life _do_ come for free.”

“What? You’re joking, right?” Harry mumbles into his neck before he lifts his head to look him in the eyes, eyebrows knitted in surprise. “ _You_ gotta pay for it? Man like you?”

“I can get it for free, I think we’ve established that. But I’m a busy man. I don’t have the time nor patience to chat men up in bars. I definitely don’t have any time nor desire for dating. Paying for it is easier.”

Harry rolls off him and discards the used condom. James is afraid he’s offended him somehow with his choice of words but Harry settles in by his side again, hand resting over James’s chest.

“Shame, I think you’re missing out. We had fun tonight, talking.” Harry sounds disappointed and that’s not what James wants to hear in his voice. He knows what he’s said so far doesn’t sound very positive in relations to their evening together. But that’s as far from the truth as one can get. He’s not reached the endpoint of his statement yet.

“Oh, believe me, I had fun too. I just never really been one for romance and boyfriends. _Although.._ ,” he makes sure to emphasize.

He twists closer, grabbing Harry by the chin. The blue eyes glitter expectantly at him and wear a longing for his kiss. He’s more than happy to grant that wish. He presses in slowly, sensually gliding his lips over Harry’s. Teasing small licks of his tongue into the warm pliant mouth. Harry’s hand travel down his naked chest, over his hair covered pecs and down his stomach past the sticky residue from their lovemaking.

The arousal starts building in him again and he knows he can be ready in a little while for round two. This time he’s going to burrow deep inside of Harry. Wants to take the young man to new heights of passion, hearing him beg for more and see him bouncing in his lap.

James pulls back from the kiss and strokes his hand down the smooth cheek of his lover. Harry’s lips look even fuller as they glisten from the fresh coating of saliva and the onslaught of kisses they suffered this night.

“For a man like you, I feel like I can make an exception,” he says softly, almost feeling sentimental. Harry’s stunning. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Big blue eyes and pink full lips. The all-encompassing desire he feels for the young man burns deep within him and has since the moment he saw him.

Harry lifts his eyebrows and grins, looking pleased with the confession, all signs of earlier disappointment vanished. “Oh, so I’m getting special treatment, am I? Nice!”

“With the performance you just gave, I almost feel inclined to leave a tip,” James jokes, chuckling lightly, not thinking much of it.

But Harry stiffens in his arms. “Keep it. I’ve put those days behind me.”

James’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he stares down at his lover. “You were a rent boy?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been to prison too,” Harry’s tells him, voice raised but ashamed.

He’s is baffled by the string of revelations. It’s shocking but he doesn’t care about Harry’s past, it doesn’t change his opinion about him. He’s not going to judge him or cast him aside because of it. God knows he’s done some less than legal things himself in his lifetime, and he’s a lawyer.

Harry pushes further away from him, trying to leave the bed. “I told you, you can do a lot better than me.”

James doesn’t like the way the young man berates himself as someone who isn’t worthy of his time, thinking that James is too good for him. He holds Harry tighter, bringing him back against his chest again. “On the contrary. This darker side of yours is rather appealing too,” he says truthfully. Maybe this is why they seem to be so compatible? Both of them messed up under the surface.

“Well, you’re the only one who thinks so. Guess I should have known. A criminal defence solicitor getting off on criminals,” Harry rolls his eyes and huffs.

James clicks his tongue at him. He needs Harry to understand that this thing between them isn’t something he takes lightly. He doesn’t have a kink for jailbirds. “Criminal. Singular. _Only_ _you_ ,” he stresses, making sure Harry knows exactly how things stand.

He runs his hand over Harry’s cheek again, turning his face to look at him. He’s rewarded with a small roll of the blue eyes and a lopsided smile. His hand trails down Harry’s neck and settles over his beating heart, looking him deep in the eyes. “I like you. You have a certain je ne sais quoi.”

“I can say the same about you,” Harry chuckles looking up at him fully, seemingly relaxed again.

His eyes travel over his lover, taking him in with new light. “You seem to have the perfect blend of everything.”

Harry pulls another crooked smile and breaths in a self-deprecating laugh, raising his brows. “Not exactly what I expected to hear after telling someone I’m a former prostitute and ex-convict.”

James cocks his brow and plants a soft kiss on the pouting lips. “I’m not most men.”

“You can say that again,” Harry says softly as if a thought occurred to him. He sits quietly for a beat before he continues. “Y’know, I’ve never done this before.” Harry starts shifting in his embrace again, looking down to their naked entangled legs, avoiding eye contact. “Cheated, I mean,” he goes on, pressing out the word uncomfortably.

It’s only natural that Harry feels guilty about what they’ve just done. James doesn’t expect him not to. Harry appears kind-hearted and idealistic, cheating doesn’t seem like something he takes lightly and neither does James. The reason for the prison stint he clearly feels remorseful over too, James could hear it in his voice.

“I was selling myself while I was with my fiance but that was different, y’know? My head was all over the place. This is something else... You and me, we just … I don’t know but... You’re the first one that’s made me _want_ to cross that line. Y’know? … I really like you, James. You got this thing... I can’t put my finger on it. Makes me want more.”

It’s quite endearing the way Harry nervously rambles on, hands gesturing wildly as he’s trying to put words to his sudden feelings. James’s ego has boosted to maximum hearing how the young man sees him. It means a great deal to him. He’s glad he’s not the only one taken so intensely by their chance encounter.

“I’m honoured,” James tells him sincerely, mouth stretched into a big smile. He leans in for another kiss and Harry beams tenderly at him as they pull apart.

James hopes this means that most of the young man’s troubles are going to come to an end now. That Harry can make a fresh start, preferably a fresh start with James. “So you’re finally going to cancel your wedding then? How about I take you out on a proper date tomorrow? I’ll get out of my plans somehow. I’d much rather spend the day with you.”

James relaxes down against the pillows, smiling content and happy. Meeting Harry has made him willing to step out of his comfort zone. He wants to date him, wants to take him places, to cook him dinner and take him to the spa. To go on walks in the park, take him to the opera or wherever Harry wants to go. He’d even go with him to a football match despite his own disinterest in the sport. He wants to get to know Harry even better, really dive down into the deep and find out all about his little quirks, to really get to know his soul.

How different this trip has turned out than he first imagined when Verity begged him to be her plus one. It’s the best decision he’s made to accept her bribe as it has led him to Harry.

“Tomorrow..,” Harry mumbles quietly and sits up abruptly. He swings his legs off the bed and down to the floor, his back turned to James.

Harry’s reaction comes so out of nowhere James can’t understand why it’s even happening after everything that’s just been said between them. “What’s wrong?” he asks, reaching out and stroking his hand down Harry’s arm, trying to coax him back into bed.

Harry twists his head back, looking at him over his shoulder. He looks dreadful. Pale and hollow, panicked and remorseful. Nothing of the bubbling happiness they’ve just shared is visible anymore.

“James… Listen, there’s so much you don’t know. Okay?” Harry turns away from him again and stares at the floor instead.

James sits up fully. He can’t shake the dread that comes over him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. “Then tell me,” he pleads.

Harry moves off the bed before James can grab his arm again. He quickly puts on his boxers, back still turned to James. “No, no I should go,” Harry asserts, voice much firmer and colder.

“Don’t go,” James begs. He’s not a man who begs but even he has his weaknesses. Harry has turned out to be his biggest one yet.

“Look, this was a mistake. Okay? I can’t cancel the wedding. Just forget about me. Forget everything!” It’s not only the words that break his heart but the way they’re spoken with such pleading desperation and sorrow, like Harry is in extreme agony.

“Harry, wait!” He scampers out of bed after the runaway groom. He needs to try and get through to him. Harry is young, intelligent, clever. He shouldn’t have to throw his life away like this.

But James is still naked and his clothes are scattered all over the suite. Harry, on the other hand, has already jumped into his jeans and pulled on his shoes. The rest of his clothes are gathered up in his arms, pressing against his bare chest. His wide and sad eyes scan over James’s naked body one last time before he bolts.

The door swings open with a bang by the forceful pull and Harry runs out from the suite. James calls after him but Harry doesn’t turn around or slow down.

He’s left standing naked by the door. He can only look on as the man who’s awakened his guarded heart disappears down the corridor and out of his life.

It’s unfair, for both of them, that it ends like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry that AO3 keeps double posting the notes)
> 
> Spoiler alert: It doesn't end like this 😉
> 
> ❤️Kudos and comments are always appreciated ❤️ Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Hope this wasn't too cringe and the sex felt real lol. Also hope they were in character. Since this is a love a first sight kind of a fic I needed to make James a bit more "out there" with his feelings.
> 
> Fun Fact: On the show in the Jarry bedroom scene after the "maybe it will happen again" scene during the affair you can see a bottle of Clarins Eau Dynamisante on James's nightstand. If you haven't smelled it, you should! It's lovely.
> 
> Another fun fact: I researched a bit for this fic so it does take about 4 hours to drive from London to Chester, there is a Chester Grosvenor Hotel, and there used to be a gay bar called 6T9 that's a 7 minute walk from the hotel 🤓
> 
> PS. And as you all know - fuck BK and HO forever. I'm gonna be upset, angry, depressed about what they did to James and Harry for eternity. 💔


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _James has already put two and two together. His initial thoughts were correct when he saw the card in the car and now the photographs confirm it. Harry from last night. The one that’s getting married. Of course, it’s as he fears. His Harry, that’s trapped and doesn’t want to get married at all, is the same Harry as Verity’s nephew._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two! Hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> James is a bit of a snob in this one lol

It’s the morning of the tedious wedding that Verity is dragging him off to. Harry left after 2 AM and Verity calls a few hours later to wake James up. It’s unnecessary, he is wide awake. He’s been staring at the ceiling for the past hour, filled with self-pity and heartache.

His body feels blissfully fucked out but he’s moody and tired, bitter and disappointed. Harry left in such a state James never even managed to get his number or his last name. He’s never going be able to find him again. This is why paying for it is so much easier. There are no feelings attached. There are no lingering ‘what ifs’. It’s just sex and nothing more.

After the debacle, he had raided the minibar to drink the pain away. He’s barely slept at all. The night was mostly spent tossing and turning in the crumpled bed sheets that are still laced with Harry’s intoxicating scent. When he did manage to drift off into some state of slumber the scene of Harry’s departure kept playing on a loop only serving to increase his unrest.

He puts on the clothes that Harry so enthusiastically discarded him of last night. By Verity’s firm order, he drags himself down to the hotel cafeteria for breakfast with her. He only pokes at it. He’s hungover, melancholy and lacks any appetite. Verity, on the other hand, is sociable and energetic, looking forward to her nephew’s wedding. He figures she must have been up for hours already, she’s got a full face of makeup on and her hair looks meticulously curled to perfection.

She manages to extract some information about his eventful night in the arms of his young fit Grecian God. And then she teases him about it. He didn’t expect anything less. That’s why he chooses not to reveal that it meant more to him than just some hot, fun, sex. He’d never hear the end of it. She’d be going on and on about him finally rising to the occasion and becoming, as she likes to call it, ‘a proper adult’ in a serious relationship based on love and understanding.

It’s all a load of rubbish anyway. He finally found the man he wants to spend all his time with and then he lost him five hours later. What’s the point of opening up his heart when it only ends up getting trampled on?

His business partner follows him back to his suite after breakfast to ensure that he gets into the shower and doesn’t fall into bed again. She returns twenty minutes later in her full wedding outfit to make sure he’s getting dressed too. Verity compliments him on his suit and choice of shirt and tie, making comments about all the men that will surely fall at his feet at the wedding. He glares at her, through the mirror, while he’s fixing his hair. He has no desire to meet anyone, even if it’s just for a one night stand, not after his fiasco with Harry. And if he’s being completely honest with himself, he knows that no other man will ever compare to the sensational man he met last night. He will never find anyone as special as Harry.

James’s skull is suffering from a steady throbbing ache and he knows it will only get worse as he has to fake smile his way through the whole wedding. If he wasn’t so hungover he’d take Verity’s Porsche out for a spin to clear his head. Unfortunately, his blood alcohol levels are most certainly through the roof, so it’s Verity who drives them over to Hollyoaks village.

It’s driver’s choice and Verity is playing some very annoying pop shuffle on the stereo. She’s tapping her fingers in tune with it, her long fuchsia painted nails clicking against the steering wheel. He can’t stand it. But she refuses to turn it off or switch it to something less objectionable. All he wants is to hear the comforting sound of an aria sung by Maria Callas.

“Here. Sign this.” Verity hands him a card with two champagne glasses clinking together. _‘Congratulations’_ is printed below in a cursive gold coloured font. He finds a pen in the glove compartment and flips the card open. _‘Best wishes, Harry and Ste. Love, Verity & ’_ is all it reads.

“A bit sparse, don’t you think?” James remarks at the lack of a more personal message. It’s her nephew’s wedding after all.

“Trust me, when they see the very expensive gift I’ve got them, they won’t care about the card.”

They stop at a red light and he scribbles down his signature next to hers. It’s then that it dawns on him, in his still lethargic hungover, and he fully notices the name - _Harry_. He thinks he’s heard Verity mention a nephew by that name when she’s gossiped about her family to Sami in the office. But it’s nothing he’s put any effort in remembering.

It can just be a fluke, which he’s certain it is. It doesn’t have to be _his Harry_. Harry never did tell him when he was getting married only that he was. Arranging a stag do, even if it was a fake one, the night before one’s wedding sounds like cutting it awfully close. Although, James guesses, Harry could have deliberately been pushing the stag do further up while he tried to find a way out of the upcoming wedding.

No, he decides it’s most likely just a coincidence and the classic case of heightened attention to Harry’s name after their night together. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s just reading too much into it. Just like he did last night, thinking there could be something more between them.

He tries to push the thought from his mind but it’s easier said than done. He’s sure he’ll never see Harry again anyway. The realisation hit him quite hard last night after Harry left and now the crushing pain it causes repeats itself all over again. All he wants to do is go home and curl up on his couch, moping and sipping on his favourite single malt. He knows the corporate merger is his reward for being Verity’s plus one but he’s starting to think it’s not worth it.

They’re stuck in a morning traffic jam and cars are honking left and right, only serving to annoy him even more. He’s feeling beyond irritated and his headache is increasing too. Verity, kindly enough, digs out two aspirins from her handbag and he swallows them down dry.

“Why exactly did you drag me out of bed this early? You said the wedding wasn’t until one o’clock,” he snaps, glaring at his business partner. It’s only half nine. The wedding isn’t starting for another five and a half hours.

“It’s my nephew’s wedding. So apparently, it’s all hands on deck and, unfortunately, that includes me.”

He rolls his eyes and stares out the window at the passing cow fields. The weather is depressing. It’s grey and cloudy, a perfect reflection of his mood. The forecast still warns about the possible storm that’s coming in from Ireland and is heading towards Chester and Hollyoaks village. He hopes it does show up so that they will be forced to postpone the wedding and he’ll be allowed to return to London. He wants to sink into a bed that’s free of Harry’s scent and lingering memories.

They arrive in Hollyoaks a half-hour later. It’s as any other small English village, bleak and boring. He much prefers the lively flow of the big city life in London, the opera being one of it’s best selling points. Coupled with the attractive and peaceful riverside neighbourhood he resides in, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

They park behind some shoddy pub called ‘The Dog in the Pond’, a peculiar name. They have to pass by it to get to their destination and it turns out there actually is a pond situated adjacent to the pub and they walk over the pathway bridges to cross it. He wonders what foul things lurk underneath the murky waters. It looks like the perfect criminal wasteland, he’s a criminal defence solicitor he knows better than anyone about these things. It’s probably stacked with guns, phones, bodies and all sorts of crucial pieces of evidence, and according to the pub - a dog as well.

A big boat lay anchored in the pond too. ‘The Love Boat’, sounds like that 80’s sitcom his mother used to watch when he was growing up. It’s a burger shack Verity informs him. He wouldn’t want to eat there though, it’s rusty and the colour is flaking off the sides. He imagines the inside doesn’t look much better.

They continue walking for a bit and then turn a corner, ending up at the heart of the village. Verity points out her family restaurant, owned by her brother. ‘The Hutch’. He rolls his eyes. With a name like Hutchinson, he supposes there’s not much else they could’ve named it. Nightingale, on the other hand, is an excellent name for all sorts of businesses. It has a certain ring to it and class. As well as recognition thanks to associations to the famous Florence and the small songbird.

The whole square next to the restaurant is decorated and has been made ready for the outdoor ceremony. But it must be the most atrocious wedding decorations he’s ever seen. There’s a huge orange and white banderol hung up in some poles. _‘Congratulations Ste & Harry’_ it reads and printed around the font are some very ugly animated autumn leaves. Cheap and tacky. Harry’s name on it makes it an even bigger eyesore. He knows he’ll continue being reminded of his lover throughout the rest of the day seeing as this is Harry’s namesake’s wedding. Just what he needs today.

He concentrates on the flower arrangements instead, trying to put Harry out of his mind. The flowers are spread out on tables and in tall vases around the square. As expected they aren’t even real flora but cheap plastic. It shows a mile off. What were they thinking? These decorations look to suit a child’s birthday party, definitely not a wedding. The balloons are the worst though, bright green, yellow and orange. It’s almost laughable. Looks like something you’d find down the bargain bin.

“Looks like the handiwork of a clown,” he remarks as they walk through the wedding setup.

“Oh, stop it,” Verity chuckles. “It looks perfectly.. fine.” He knows she’s lying.

Verity leads the way, in her high heels, up a long staircase to a row of flats. The ugly balloons are attached to each of the blue front doors. He follows her down to the corner flat, bracing himself as he’s about to come face to face with the people blessed with such exquisite wedding decoration skills.

The front door flies open abruptly before Verity even has the chance to ring the bell. “Oh, hello. Didn’t see you there,” a dark haired, slim man with a high pitch voice and clipboard in hand smiles at them cheerily. His teeth are a blinding white in contrast to his dark orange fake tan.

“All the fabulous decorations are up. Now we can check that off the list,” the man chirps, drawing a checkmark on his clipboard. “Next up, the gift bags,” he calls back into the flat before he takes off in a hurry.

“I was right,” James half whispers, nudging Verity in the arm and cocks his brow in the clown-like man’s direction. There could be no other culprit. His bright orange suit and multi-striped shirt are made up of the same horrendous and shrill colour combinations as the wedding decorations. The man looks like the personification of a clown without its makeup on.

“James, behave now,” Verity tuts and flicks her hair behind her shoulders before she pushes the door open. They step into the flat but it’s empty and there’s no one to receive them. “Anyone home?” Verity calls out into the silence.

“Oh, little sister! I’m so happy you could make it!” What appears to be Verity’s older brother pops up from behind the kitchen counter almost scaring James half to death.

The man rushes forward hugging Verity tightly. He seems like an energy rabbit, face awash with giddiness. James can’t spot any family resemblance between the two of them.

“Couldn’t miss my nephew’s wedding, now could I? It’ll be at least fifteen years until the next one’s. Speaking of, where are Diane and the kids?” Verity asks her brother and James is already bored out of his mind.

“They’re over next door with Ste’s sisters getting ready.”

Verity’s brother turns and takes a good look at him, grinning from ear to ear. It’s almost frightening. “You haven’t introduced us yet. This must be the boyfriend?”

“Afraid not. I’m the partner. James Nightingale,” James corrects him quickly. He rather not be embraced and welcomed into the family before Verity has had a chance to explain who he really is. But knowing her she’ll stall as long as possible because she finds his discomfort amusing.

“Sadly, Sami, my boyfriend, is bedridden. But he sends his best wishes,” Verity fills her brother in. “James here owns the law firm with me and Sami.”

“Well, nice to meet you, James. I’m Tony, father of the groom. Well one of them. Although I see them both as my sons,” he chuckles merrily and James smiles his first fake smile of the day.

Tony shakes his hand in greeting and then gestures around the flat. “It’s a bit hectic here, as you can imagine. You’ll have to excuse the mess.” It’s worse than messy. It looks like a battlefield made out of confetti and vast amounts of residue from those awful decorations outside.

Tony turns back to his sister and James takes a step to the side, looking at the ghastly wallpaper. How people can live like this he’ll never know. There’s not an ounce of complementing interior design in the flat. His eyes drift over the rest of the home. There are children’s toys strewn everywhere and the kitchen looks a mess. It’s what he would call ‘a dump’.

In the far end, behind the couch, there’s a row of framed photos sitting on top of a dresser. It gives him pause. He can’t quite make out the face clearly but there’s a head of dark blonde hair he recognizes.

His heart clenches in his chest as his eyes fall to a larger photo. That smile. That beautiful smile that lights up a room. It can’t be anyone else.

“Dad wants to see you as soon as you arrived, he said. He’s at the restaurant right now supervising the food prep. We really need to get down there too,” Tony tells his sister.

“Alright, alright. Can I at least see the groom first?” Verity asks, her eyes falling over the mess of the flat too.

“Harry! Your aunt is here! And her plus one!” Tony shouts to the rear of the flat and stalks off to the couch pulling on his suit jacket.

James has already put two and two together. His initial thoughts were correct when he saw the card in the car and now the photographs confirm it. Harry from last night. The one that’s getting married. Of course, it’s as he fears. _His Harry_ , that’s trapped and doesn’t want to get married at all, is the same Harry as Verity’s nephew.

The man he spent two hours naked with in his hotel suite last night steps out of the bedroom. It doesn’t come as a jaw-dropping surprise that his assumption of Harry’s identity is correct. He’s a lawyer, after all. He can read people and situations better than anyone. But it’s inconvenient as he has become quite taken with Harry.

Despite claiming to have renounced all romantic notions from his life, he feels irrevocably attached to the young man. A flame of jealousy gnaws deep inside of him again. He truly has no desire to sit back and watch his lover marry another man. A man that by Harry’s own account he doesn’t even want to get married to. From the few things Harry told James about his fiance, he doesn’t exactly sound like Prince Charming.

His eyes haven’t left Harry since the young man walked into the living room. He’s wearing a blue three-piece suit. The wrong shade of blue James notes. There are far better hues to choose from, especially for one’s wedding. Of course, Harry looks good in anything. Even the cheap suit he’s wearing can’t take away from the captivating and attractive presence he excuses.

Harry hasn’t noticed him yet. He’s too busy fumbling with what James assumes is supposed to resemble a bowtie. How he has managed to turn it into a string of knots instead is a mystery.

“Aunt Verity, thanks for coming,” Harry says without looking up, pulling through on the last knot of the bowtie. It looks ghastly. He grunts resigned and tugs apart the grossly uneven creation.

Harry looks up then and James thinks his lover is about to have a coronary. The look on his face is set with utter disbelief and shock. James feels the same way. He sure knows how to pick them.

“The old nerve kicking in?” Verity asks laughing, she too clearly having observed her nephew’s unmistakably sinking face.

James wonders what she’d do to him if she knew that her nephew was the one he spent the night with. He doesn’t know how close they are or what she even thinks of the man Harry is meant to marry in a few hours.

“Yeah, something like that,” Harry answers her, words sounding shaky and uncertain. The beautiful blue eyes flit nervously over the flat. It’s obvious Harry’s trying to compose himself, looking anywhere but directly at James.

Somewhere in the middle of their revelation Tony has received a phone call. He places his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Yeah, we’re on our way,” Tony clips down the phone and quickly ushers Verity outside with him.

Both of the Hutchinson siblings, fortunately, forget that James is still in the flat and leaves him there. When the door closes behind them the house falls eerily quiet. He’s sure he would hear a pin drop. It is just the two of them. Him and his newfound lover.

Harry seems frozen as he fully stares at him now, his face still in utter disbelief. James clears his throat deciding to be the first to break the ice. “Well, this is a surprise,” he says raising his brows, stepping further into the flat and closer to Harry. “I’d say it’s a pleasant one but your face tells me otherwise.”

A deep frown lays heavy between Harry’s brows, marking his confusion. His eyes scan over James’s body as if to check that he’s really real and not a mirage.

“I don’t get it. You’re my aunt’s boyfriend? Thought you said you were single?” Harry sounds disappointed. Angry and offended even. James sees it as a small victory.

He snorts at the quite sickening notion of dating Verity. “I’m her partner. Strictly business. She lacks a certain _something_ to spike my interest.” He cocks his brow, eyes falling over Harry’s body. “I think you know what I mean.”

He’s half-expecting Harry to throw him out of the flat and to banish him from the wedding at any moment. But his lover makes no such inclinations. “Can’t believe this,” Harry groans instead, dragging his hands over his face and walks back into the bedroom.

James contemplates his next move for a second before he follows in Harry’s footsteps. It’s now or never, quite literally. In just a few hours, Harry will be wed. James has to take this chance that’s been so gracefully given to him by some serendipitous deity.

He enters the bedroom but stops by the door. The young groom-to-be is still struggling with his bowtie. His attempts get worse the more he tries. He ends up ripping the bowtie loose over and over again, grunting and sighing as he keeps failing.

James leans against the doorpost, arms crossed over his chest as he’s watching Harry’s frustrated reflection in the full-length floor mirror. He can’t help but take pity on him. “Need a hand?”

“Can’t seem to get it right,” Harry sighs and James takes his reply as an invitation and affirmation to his question.

He steps up behind him, sliding his hand up Harry’s right shoulder. The wide set of muscles tense up slightly underneath his touch but Harry doesn’t recoil or push him away. It’s a step in the right direction at least.

James spins him around so they’re face to face but his lover doesn’t look up at him. Harry’s staring down at the untied bowtie in his hands, obviously rattled by James’s intimate proximity. Funnily enough, the bowtie is the same maroon colour as James’s shirt and tie. They match perfectly.

James takes the cheap polyester bowtie gently from Harry’s hands. Their fingers grace over each other’s for a short second, leaving a flutter deep in the pit of his stomach. Harry evidently isn’t the only one affected by their intimacy.

He had hoped that last night had just been a moment of madness, making him so enamoured with the young man, fueled by alcohol and a pretty face. It would spare him a lot of heartaches, that’s for sure. But his deep feelings for Harry are just as strong in the cold light of day as they were last night when James lay wrapped up in Harry’s arms.

“I don’t think it’s the bowtie that’s the issue,” James points out, knowing exactly what’s truly grating on Harry’s mind. He’s certain that his lover doesn’t want to get married. That hasn’t changed as Harry had claimed last night when he left the bed riddled with guilt after their night of passion.

The gorgeous set of blue eyes stare up at him now. Big and round, filled to the brim with nerves and apprehension. Harry is still beautiful. Stunning. But he looks tired and like he’s five minutes away from a nervous breakdown.

“James, last night... What I told you. What we did, I … I..,” Harry says softly, almost whispering but he trails off, not finishing his sentence. But James can guess that it’s the same thing Harry told him before he left last night.

He slips the tie strap back around Harry’s neck, tying it around itself with ease and turning it into the perfect bow. Harry is still gazing up at him, his eyes now drifting up and down between James’s lips and eyes. James can’t help the smug smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth. Harry still wants him despite claiming it was all a mistake. He wets his lips and follows the blue eyes as they follow the slide of his tongue.

His own eyes drift down and settle on his lover’s dusted pink, full lips. Harry’s mouth is hanging open, looking so very enticing. He remembers how good those supple lips felt against his. He could never forget how perfectly their mouths moulded together. Each press of Harry’s lips, every slide of his tongue - exquisite. The way his lover’s warm, moist mouth dragged over the rest of his body and wrapped around his cock - sensational.

The bowtie still sits between James’s fingers. He leans down further to adjust it some more even though it’s already perfect. Harry presses his lips together in a thin line and breaths out audibly through his nose, his face in turmoil with a flurry of emotions. James can distinctly make out the intense desire Harry holds for him in the sea of bright blue.

He chances closer, leaning down slowly, gazing deeply into those hypnotizing blue eyes. It’s only been a few hours since they parted but he’s missed Harry. He never thought he’d see him again after he disappeared into the cold, dark night. There’s nothing James wants more than to taste those lips again.

Thankfully his attempt isn’t aborted but instead rewarded. Harry meets him halfway. The second the plush lips press up at him James’s eyes fall shut, drowning in the moment. His hands release from around the bowtie and slide up to Harry’s cheeks, running the pads of his thumbs over the soft smooth skin there.

The kiss is as perfect as he remembers. Hot and sensual and they fall into the same effortless rhythm as before. His insides tingle even more with familiar hope. The surge of arousal rushes through him and he presses in deeper against the young man’s lips. Harry’s mouth grows more generous and James slips his tongue into the welcoming wet heat, making the young man moan in pleasure.

Harry clings on to the lapels of his suit almost desperately, hauling James in even closer to his body. One hand slides down and behind Harry’s neck and the other to his shoulder, squeezing him in tighter while he deepens their kisses even further. It’s as if they’ve been starved without each other and the passion they find in each other’s hungry kisses are their salvation. He can never get enough.

James is so transfixed by his lover he’s forgotten their surroundings. In his head, the next logical step is to begin undressing each other. He starts to push Harry’s suit jacket off those muscular shoulders but it doesn’t garner the response he wants.

Harry tears his mouth away gasping, eyes wide with alarm. “No! We can’t!” he stresses and looks behind them in panic. “Anyone could walk in.”

“Not to mention, it being your wedding day,” James reminds him disgruntledly. They still need to deal with it. He wants to know what Harry is planning to do about it.

Harry leans in again but presses his forehead against James’s chest, hands still holding on to his suit lapels. “Ugh, don’t remind me,” he groans, lips mouthing over the shirt.

James’s arms are wrapped around his lover’s back, hugging him near. He sighs deeply, emotionally drained himself from the rollercoaster ride they’re finding themselves on. He looks down at the mass of dark blonde hair as the young groom still clings to him tightly. It’s heartwarming that Harry finds this amount of trust and comfort in him that they can stand here like this. It feels so good and natural to have Harry in his arms. He doesn’t want to let him go. But he knows it’s only a matter of time before someone walks in or worse Harry tells him to leave.

“You truly don’t want to get married, do you? Why did you wait this long? You could have made it easy for yourself and gotten out months ago.” He knows he’s being unfair, demanding answers like this and speaking to Harry in such a sharp tone but time is of the essence. He needs to understand why Harry is still hesitating.

“Easy doesn’t seem to exist in my world,” Harry mutters into his chest, avoiding to give him any real answers.

The young man lets go and steps away from him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He’s rubbing his hands over his face, looking completely drained and hopeless. James sits down next to him, straightening out his suit lapels. His lover has turned them wrinkly by the sheer force he had them crumpled up in his fists.

Harry still has his head buried in his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. It looks painful. James gently places his hand over Harry’s, lowering them down to rest on top of his knee. Harry doesn’t pull away but lets James lace their fingers together.

“It’s not too late. There’s still time,” James says softly with a pleading ache. His desperation for Harry to be a free man is growing stronger by the minute.

James looks to Harry’s eyes for any sign of what’s going on in his lover’s head but they’re downturned, intensely focused on their joint hands. He feels Harry’s thumb graze over the back of his hand before a heavy sigh leaves his lungs and Harry finally looks up at him.

The blue eyes are big and questioning. Eyebrows lifted and forehead lined with frustration. “How messed up is this? You here, at my wedding? I thought I’d never see you again.” Harry sounds agitated and stressed. James expects nothing less.

“Must be fate,” James speaks softly again, raising his brow and quirking his lips in response.

“What, you’re _really_ my knight in shining armour?”

“I have the name for it.” They had joked about it last night. How it was fate that brought James to Chester to meet Harry and to save him from his doom, just like in the fairytales. Now it's all looking to come true. It can’t just be a coincidence. 

Harry pulls his hand away and moves off the bed. James aches from the loss. His lover paces the floor of the small bedroom, back and forth, looking like a caged animal. “It was just a silly fantasy. Alright? Meeting the man of my dreams and him saving me from this nightmare. It _can’t_ be real,” Harry tries to convince himself but James can hear the strain in his words, he can hear the lack of conviction.

James sucks in a breath and smiles to himself. Harry just referred to him as ‘the man of his dreams’. It sparks an even greater fire inside of him. James knows that Harry knows, as well as he does, that they have a real connection that’s worth exploring. It’s worth leaving everything else behind and starting anew.

Of course, deep down he understands that it can’t be easy, given the situation that Harry’s in, to just pack up and leave. But James is selfish and proud, always has been. He doesn’t want to wait around and share Harry for however long it will take for his lover to free himself from his current predicament. He wants him all to himself and he wants him now. So he will keep pushing for his desired outcome.

“And yet here I am,” he gestures with his hands and smiles wryly. He stands up and moves over to Harry, placing his hands on his shoulders, halting the frantic movements. He bends his tall back down to fully be able to look Harry straight in the eyes. “We can go, right now. No one has to know.”

“Of course they’ll know!” Harry clips and rolls his eyes exasperatedly. “I can’t just disappear like that and you too. They’ll put two and two together. I bet Verity will figure it out in minutes.”

Harry slips out of his hold and turns back to the bed, dragging his hands over his face again. “God, I’m such a coward,” he heaves, breath laboured and shaky. “Can’t even do it myself. Maybe I don’t deserve to be happy? Maybe this is as good as it gets? Maybe _this is_ all I deserve?” the young man wildly rambles on with tears in his eyes. It’s too painful for James to watch. He can’t stand it.

"I’ll do it! _I’ll_ stop the wedding. When they ask for any objections I’ll stand up and make my claim. Just let me help you,” he beseeches, not caring how desperate he sounds.

Harry closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and then he explodes. “You can’t! Don’t you get it?” he yells at James. “My family, they’re gonna hate me! They’ll turn their back on me and side with Ste. He cheated on me before and they still took his side, pushing me to go back to him. Ste’s more of a son to my dad than I’ll ever be. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s gonna get kicked out and have to leave the village. Alright? I’m lucky they even speak to me after all the things I’ve done.”

Harry’s family putting him last on their list of priorities surely doesn’t help matters. James can’t understand why the young man is so attached to them when they don’t seem to treat him with any compassion or understanding at all.

It’s James’s turn to pace the room. He pulls a hand over his brows frustratedly, desperately trying to think of what else he can say to sway Harry to cancel the stupid wedding. There has to be something that will push him over the edge.

“You do know there are far better places to live, right? Like say, London, for instance. Like you always wanted,” he suggests fervently, hoping the big city life will tempt him. “You could even go back to uni and finish your degree.” The opportunities are endless for a clever lad like Harry. And James knows all the contacts and shortcuts needed to give an ex-convict a new shot at life.

Harry shakes his head, hands on his hips. “A pipe dream. It was just a stupid teenage fantasy.”

“And I thought I veered towards melancholia,” James mumbles exhausted. He sighs again, brain working overtime to come up with yet another potential solution, another suggestion, to make Harry see that he doesn’t have to throw his life away like this.

His lover looks stiff and resigned where he stands on the middle of the bedroom floor. He’s dragging his left hand across his chin as if he’s contemplating something, staring out through the open bedroom door, watery eyes fixed on a spot somewhere in the living room.

“Everything I’ve done. All the pain I’ve caused,” Harry starts speaking slowly, quietly, as if he’s deliberating with himself. “Everything that’s going on right now. I have no other choice. I have to marry Ste,” comes his disappointing conclusion.

James feels like they’re treading water. Harry’s taking three steps back whenever he speaks instead of trying to find a way out. James realises it must all boil down to the young man’s guilt. He doesn’t know much about the struggles Harry’s been through or why he’s been to prison but he does know that the young man deserves to live out his dreams and not be held back because of past mistakes.

“You can’t throw your life away like this. Everyone deserves a second chance,” James tells him, trying to reason with him.

Harry looks up at him, broken out of his monotone spell. “No, I don’t deserve anything,” he insists, the self-hatred evident in his voice.

“You’re not a bad person, Harry,” James tries again but the reception isn’t any better.

Harry holds his arm out towards him, stopping James from coming any closer as he takes a step towards him. “James, please, just go. It’s over,” Harry says quietly, voice lacking emotion.

It can’t be over. “Harry..,” James begs him again, reaching out his hand to touch his lover’s shoulder in one last desperate attempt to get through to him. It can’t end like this, not again.

Harry recoils from his touch and glares at him painfully, his despair turned into contempt. “Don’t. I said get out, James!” he snaps, words cutting like a knife.

James narrows his eyes, gazing down in the blue ones that are hardened by determination. He pulls his business card out from his breast pocket and flicks it nonchalantly onto the bed. “Call me when you’ve worked up the courage to get a divorce,” James spits out with a mocking sneer. His pride has been severely wounded. No one treats him like this and gets away with it.

But he’s weak. Deep down he still wants Harry despite the hurtful rejection. And that’s why he leaves him his card. However, it remains to be seen if the young man will still come running to him or not after James has done what he’s planning on doing. Chances are, most likely he won’t.

“If there’ll be a wedding, that is,” he threatens coldly and turns on his heel and walks out.

“James? What do you mean _if_ ?” Harry calls out after him, alarm in his voice.

He can hear Harry’s hastened footsteps following closely behind him. But he continues walking towards the front door, in long purposeful strides, ignoring the question. His lover has left him no choice.

The front door opens suddenly and it’s the clown. “Oh, hello again,” the man grins, trying to be flirty. James feels his insides turn with repulsion. The clown moves past James towards Harry and relief floods him that he’s not getting held up for some nauseating pickup attempt. James walks out the door without anyone stopping him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we all know, James can be a little full-on and do bitter twisted things when he doesn't get what he wants. And well... chapter 3 will deal with that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! ❤️ Kudos and comments are always very appreciated ❤️
> 
> ps: In case you missed it - the clown is Scott 🎈😂. Here you see the fake flowers, the ugly balloons and clown suit.  
> 
> 
> (sorry that AO3 keeps double posting the notes)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not too overly fond of how this chapter turned out. Had a lot of conflicting thoughts as I made the last edits trying to make it make sense. Hopefully, it does. Hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> FYI: This chapter has mentions of racism, past abuse, past homophobia, mentions of self-harm, mentions of strangling and murder. Nothing is graphic or extensive at all, it’s only mentioned in 1 or 2 sentences each but I want readers to be aware in case it’s a trigger. It refers to James’s past/childhood, Harry’s time in prison, Amy Barnes’ murder, and the far-right.

One of the wedding programs has escaped from the table that’s been set up outside the restaurant with rows of glasses and bottles of champagne. It lays filthy and tattered on the ground. James picks it up to put it in the nearest bin.

His eyes drift over the words before he crumples it up in his fist and throws it away. _‘Steven Hay and Harry Thompson’_. Makes him nauseous just to read their names together. He’s not even seen this Ste character yet but he hates him with a burning passion already. He’s not overly fond of Harry’s father either.

There’s a corner shop close to the restaurant in the village square. He buys himself a bottle of champagne. It’s not his usual brand of preference but it will have to do. He intends to neck it in the alley. He refuses to go anywhere near the wedding. His plan only requires him to make a dramatic entrance, he doesn’t need to be there from the start.

James steps out of the shop and the first thing he sees is Harry. His heart clenches uncomfortably in his chest. Harry is stood holding a gift bag discussing its content with the clown and a bleach blonde man in a maroon coloured suit. It must be the despised groom. He looks ridiculous with his blue bowtie trying to match Harry’s blue suit. It’s a small comfort, at least, seeing how atrociously the bowtie is tied. The suit isn’t much better, it looks cheap and ill-fitted. And once again, the colour is off and not the right shade of maroon.

Two children, a boy and a girl come up to the men and start tugging at their arms, hands outreached for money. Harry tells them off and they stamp their feet and start complaining loudly for everyone to hear, calling Harry all sorts. How charming.

He can see Ste reach into Harry’s suit pocket fishing out a ten-pound note and handing it over to them. “Thanks, Daddy,” they grin and then poke their tongues out at Harry. The kids run off past James into the shop. A minute later they run past him on their way out, hands filled with sweets, sodas and ice creams. He can tell that Harry is annoyed by their father’s wasteful ways. But the young man is forced to swallow it down when Ste gets up in his face, irritated and defensive about it.

James can’t imagine that Harry enjoys being a stepfather to two such bratty sprogs. They’re just like their idiot father. Loud and gobby, entitled brats. James can’t stand children. These two just proving once and again how good life is without any.

The bleach blonde and the clown disappear up the stairs and back to the flat. Harry remains standing by the table with the champagne, hands on his hips and head bent down from exhaustion.

His lover turns around and their eyes meet. A flash of panic laces Harry’s every feature and the young man quickly makes his way over to him.

“James,” he says, sounding out of breath despite the short distance he’s walked. His lover keeps looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one sees them. That’s all James is now, a dirty little secret, cast aside and put under lock and key.

“Don’t look so panicky, I’m never far away.” The sarcasm practically drips off every single one of his words.

“What you were saying earlier, whatever you are planning, you need to back off. Alright?”

“Can’t do that, I’m afraid.” He holds up the champagne bottle and waves it in Harry’s face. “See, I’ve already bought this to celebrate the demise of your wedding.”

Harry rolls his eyes and pushes the bottle out of his face and looks at him tensely. That intensity that flows so heavily between them resurfaces and lingers in the silence. James needs to take a deep breath to regain himself. Harry does the same. James runs his tongue behind his teeth, feeling bitter and frustrated knowing what they could have is being thrown away for nothing.

Harry drags a hand over his face. When it drops he looks drained and desperate but most of all heartbroken. There are even tears filling his eyes. “My little sister is in a coma. Fighting a life-threatening infection. Okay? She-she could die,” Harry reveals with a shaky breath.

It takes James aback. It’s a shocking twist in their evolving love story. And it’s enough to snap him out of his vengeful bitterness. He is capable of sympathy, not to many, but Harry has evidently become his Achilles heel in all things. He knows he’d be equally as upset if something happened to his own little sister.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he says resigned and partly ashamed.

“Save it. Alright? This wedding is the only thing keeping my family going. Okay? I can’t let them down. They’re all depending on me. I’ve never seen my dad so happy.”

Harry shifts his weight, looking around them again, making sure no one’s eavesdropping. He turns back to James. “If you care about me _at all_ you will not stop the wedding. They need this, there’s no other way,” his lover stresses, gazing deep into his eyes.

James is left speechless, mouth trying to find the right words. But what can he say really? His lover has pushed him into a corner now.

There lives a vicious and vengeful streak in him that often takes ahold if he doesn’t get what he wants - and he wants Harry. That’s why he was planning to stop the wedding by revealing their sordid little affair out of sheer jealousy and bitterness. He was even going to use the photos on his phone of a half-naked Harry to back up his claim.

But now everything has changed. Seeing how distraught Harry is over his little sister, knowing that such a young man is willing to give up his chance at true happiness out of a sense of duty to his family - James knows he can’t go through with it. He can’t reveal their affair. He doesn’t actually want to hurt Harry.

Making rash decisions out of bitterness and anger and then regretting them, when he comes to his senses again, has always been one of James’s many flaws. Luckily Harry has made him see sense in record time.

Harry gives him one last look filled with longing and despair and then his lover turns and leaves him. With a heavy heart, James watches him walk away, the same way as the night before. He’s lost him all over again. Even three times over. All in the span of eight hours.

His eyes follow the young man as he walks towards the Hutch. Verity exits the restaurant just as Harry enters it. She spots James by the shop and waves her hand for him to come over. “There you are,” she calls to him.

He quickly marches up to her, face set in frustration. He makes sure to hide the champagne bottle behind his back. He doesn’t need her prying questions on why he’s drinking this early in the day.

“Sorry I forgot you in the flat. Everything’s so stressful around here, it’s absolute chaos in the kitchen. Right now my father and brother are even fighting over the decorations of the hors d’oeuvres,” she sighs dramatically.

He’s not listened to a word she’s said and instead cuts right to the chase. “Why didn’t you tell me your niece is in a coma?”

She looks stumped by the question but regains herself a few seconds later. “You’re not exactly the empathic type, are you? And you detest children. Why do you ask? Has something happened to her?” she asks alarmed.

“No. No, not that I know. I just heard it mentioned, that’s all. I don’t want to come across as rude to your family by not extending my sympathies. We are business partners after all,” he lies smoothly. He’s not sure why he’s even brought it up with her. It doesn’t change things with Harry.

“Well, truth is you can’t even tell that something’s wrong from looking at my brother. He’s immersed himself in this wedding to keep his mind off it. You’d think he’s the one getting married today,” she chuckles lightly. “I know that Harry wanted to delay the wedding until Dee Dee was in the clear. But Tony was adamant that it’d be better to have it now as it would bring some much-needed joy in the darkness,” she reveals.

James nods, taking in the new information and gives her a fake sympathetic smile. She tells him to keep himself entertained for the next few hours and excuses herself, returning into the restaurant again.

Harry’s father, he’s the one that’s using the wedding as a pain relief for his daughter’s illness. He’s the instigator as well as the main cheerleader for Ste while Harry’s been trying to find a way out of it. It's not fair on Harry at all.

From the few comments Harry made about his father last night the relationship between the two of them sounded strained and has been for years. James knows all too well what that’s like. He spent years seeking approval and hoping his father would tell him he loved him despite the way he treated him. Harry looks to be suffering from a similar affliction.

James walks back to the alley, his head filled with a million thoughts. Harry’s ultimatum is something he doesn’t want to be faced with. It’s making everything so much more difficult. No matter what he decides on doing the outcome will be painful for both of them, one way or another. He knows he can’t win. Harry, on the other hand, can still be saved from his doom. But James will have to go against his lover's wishes to make it happen.

He _does_ care about Harry, more than the young man can even begin to imagine. More than James ever thought he’d be capable of. That’s why he can’t do what Harry asks of him. He knows it’s selfish of him but he can’t give up on Harry. He can’t let the young man waste his life away just to please his father. He has to come up with another plan to stop the wedding. And it’s crucial that it’s something that won’t paint Harry as the bad guy. It has to be something Harry’s family can’t fault him for when the wedding falls through.

The idea that emerges in his head requires more facts and he makes a call to one of his many contacts. As he waits impatiently for the return call he moves into the dark shade of the alley next to the shop and pops open the bottle of champagne. It’s damp and even colder in there and a shiver runs through him when the wind starts sweeping in. The alcohol in the champagne does nothing to warm him up. It tastes cheap and unpleasantly bitter.

He hears footsteps drawing nearer and he’s about to hide around the corner. He doesn’t want to be seen drinking in public like some pathetic punter. He hears a whiny voice accompanying the footsteps. He just heard it ten minutes ago. It’s the bleach blonde.

“Jonny, you know I wouldn’t have let them ban you and Stuart from the wedding if you were here. I don’t care what Harry and Tony think. You’re my best mates and brothers in arm. We are family.”

The footsteps have come to a halt so he dares to sneak a few steps closer to be able to hear the conversation even better. It’s unneeded though, Ste has the speakerphone on.

“Don’t worry about it, mate. We got plans for today anyway. Gotta show those savages who this country really belongs to and send them all packing.” The racial slur wordplay that follows makes Jonny crack himself up. The cackle is loud and hateful through the speakerphone. The bleach blonde groom laughs just as vehemently.

It is sickening hearing such hatred spewed for people simply because of their nationality, race and religion. James has been subjected to homophobic slurs a number of times over the years, most of them in his youth and they stuck with him. He can still remember every one of them in the back of his mind. The hateful words and beatings inflicted on him by his own father are the most vivid.

It is obvious that Ste, Jonny and Stuart are members of the far-right movement that plagues their country. He already got a bad feeling when he saw the street rat on the village square earlier. There was just something so nasty about him, more than just his attitude and annoying appearance. James could see it lurking inside. He met enough criminals in his life to be able to spot a violent and vile one a mile off.

James dumps the champagne bottle in the nearest bin and pulls out Google Maps. He finds a coffee shop a few streets down the village. That’s where he sets up his temporary office. He orders in an extra-large Ristretto, with a splash of soy milk, to really awaken all his brain cells. He’s gonna need it to be able to pull this off.

He asks another one of his contacts for Harry’s arrest records as well as the court files. James wants to understand what Harry has done that makes him feel so guilty.

It turns out to be quite a complicated and entangled mess. Ste was even charged for the same murder but freed in court. The victim was the mother of his two children. But the bottom line is that Harry was innocent, he didn’t kill her. He may have pushed Amy Barnes and she fell, hitting her head. And panicked by what had happened Harry had fled the scene.

Harry never intended to hurt her and that should have been his line of defence if his family wasn’t interfering, putting thoughts in his head. The lawyer’s notes, in the case file, show that Harry was filled by guilt and remorse and she recommended him to plead not guilty, but Harry’s father and Ste kept pushing him to plead the opposite. In the end, the lawyer was taken off the case and a new one appointed and Harry pleaded guilty just like the two men wanted. He can’t say he’s surprised.

If it hadn’t been for the crooked copper being investigated at the same time, who happened to be the real killer, the police would never have found the doctored coroner’s rapport and Harry wouldn’t have been freed. It wasn’t the fall that killed Amy Barnes it was the hands around her neck.

Harry came out on time served and his charges were reduced from first-degree murder to common assault. Before the prison stint, he had been arrested for prostitution. The records show that Harry had been living on the streets at the time. No doubt punishing himself for what he had done. The Police had collected his DNA during the arrest and that’s what matched him to the Barnes case leading to his arrest and confession.

The second prostitution arrest happened just a few months ago on June 8th, two months after his release from prison. There was no charge made but a warning had been given to the young man that if they catch him selling himself for the third time he will be formally charged with solicitation and sent to prison for a new stretch. It must be why Harry told him he had put those days behind him, the threat of returning to prison pushing him to finally stop.

James has read his prison file as well. Being young, pretty and gay in prison isn’t easy. Harry had been in several fights during his three-month-long incarceration, fighting off men who were trying to hurt him. James can’t stand the thought of it, thinking of Harry scared and alone, bruised and battered in his prison cell. 

It pains him seeing the mugshots of his lover. The one from the first prostitution arrest is the worst, it looks like Harry’s taken a beating. There are hollow dark circles under his eyes. Skin pale and hair unkempt, wild stubble and cuts and bruises on his face. Blue eyes filled with self-hatred and fear.

James has met enough younger offenders through his pro-bono work to know that many of them turn to some form of self-harm, trying to cope with the crippling guilt and regrets. In Harry’s case, it’s the prostitution. James will make sure that Harry gets help with his demons, he knows of several support groups out there that can be of aid. James has even been to some himself because of his father. 

James knows that Harry isn’t a saint but he has served his sentence. He was young and scared and he made a terrible mistake with Amy Barnes. The young man is beyond remorseful and will be for the rest of his life, the interview transcripts tell James as much.

Harry has already suffered enough in his life. James will be damned if he has to suffer the rest of it too. He may not win his lover back in the end but James’s main priority is Harry’s future, that’s what matters now.

He’s been on the phone non-stop for almost two hours with different contacts and things are going in the desired direction. He knew he’d find something and it’s bigger than he could have foreseen. It’s even clearer to him now that Harry is stuck in an awful relationship. The only way to help him and protect him is by stopping the wedding.

It may not make the Hutchinson family happy in their moment of need but James still doesn’t think it’s fair, despite the circumstances, that it’s Harry’s responsibility to subject himself to further unhappiness because of his sister’s illness. He shouldn’t have to play the martyr and especially not to a father that’s treated him appallingly through the years. James isn’t going to let Tony increase Harry’s pain in order to reduce his own.

There’s only an hour left until the impending wedding and the last pieces of the puzzle are being expedited. The weather is growing darker and there’s a drizzle that comes and goes. Verity calls him telling him he needs to start heading back to the restaurant so he won’t miss the ceremony. Truth is she doesn’t want to look like she’s been stood up.

He returns to the village square, walking past the rows of white clap chairs and ugly orange flowers. Harry is stood by the champagne table again with the clown and the cockroach he calls a fiancé. James has to pass behind them on his way to meet up with Verity inside the restaurant.

“So do you wanna sign the wedding licence during or after the ceremony?”

“After,” James answers simultaneously as Harry, stopping in his tracks.

The three men all turn and look at him. Harry with trepidation. The clown with flirtatious interest. And the far-right monster with annoyance.

James won’t let any of them deter him. He clears his voice to make his point. “Legally, a verbal contract always comes before the written one. So I highly recommend signing it after.”

He can’t let Harry sign the wedding license before or even during the ceremony and he’s glad his lover agrees with him on this at least. Harry just doesn’t know why it’s so important yet.

Ste scrunches up his nose at him, looking him up and down disapprovingly. “And who are you? This is private.”

“James Nightingale, from NHM law,” he presents himself but he doesn’t extend his hand in greeting. He has no desire to be polite to or come in physical contact with such scum.

“He’s Verity’s plus one. They work together,” Harry fills in quickly. He’s looking nervous. No doubt worried that James will expose their passionate affair right then and there.

“Who’s Verity?” Ste asks looking as dumb as a brick.

James rolls his eyes and scoffs to himself. He can see his lover rolling his too. Harry’s fiance can’t even remember who Harry’s family members are. Verity isn’t someone you’d easily forget either. James has already managed to single out who everyone in Harry’s immediate family is and learned their names and he’s only been there for a couple of hours.

“She’s my aunt. You met her at Tony’s 40th, remember?” Harry steers Ste away, up towards the flat again, trying to describe Verity’s appearance to jump-start the cretin’s failing memory.

James trails after them slowly, eyes peeled to Harry but stops by the foot of the stairs. His lover turns back and gazes down at him briefly, a sad wry smile tugging at his lips before he vanishes around the staircase corner. Seeing those beautiful big blue eyes filled with sorrow makes James’s heart ache with pain yet again. Harry deserves so much better than a continued life in misery.

If Harry’s family truly loves him then they will be relieved when the wedding is stopped. It will be something to be grateful for in the middle of their despair over Harry’s sister. Hopefully, Harry will understand that too.

James knows he’s made the right decision. Now, he just has to sit back and wait for the show to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ❤️ Kudos and comments are always very appreciated ❤️
> 
> I realised as I was editing this that there were other ways I could have taken this story but I had already written everything out to 90% so .. here we have this. Hope it was okay.
> 
> Again, sorry that chapter 1 endnotes show up here, it's a glitch on the website and nothing I can control.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” the clown calls out over-theatrically to the crowd._
> 
> _The rumbling of a thunderstorm can be heard from far away. The wind is picking up too and a few larger raindrops have started falling from the grey sky. It’s a fitting stage for the scenes that are about to play out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's taken so long to post this, I wasn't in the groove bc the chapter felt off. Sat down yesterday and today and pumped up another 2000 words to the end part. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> FYI: This chapter contains 1 sentence mentioning James growing up abused.

James snags a glass of champagne from the table set up outside the restaurant and clunks it all down in one go. He needs it to steady his nerves. This is a massive endeavour he’s taken on, he can’t afford any hiccups. But it’s out of his hands now. Whatever happens next isn’t up to James anymore.

Lively chatter and laughter fill the stifling air around him. The guests are starting to gather up around the wedding area on the village square and they all take to their seats. Verity finds them a reserved spot on the far edge of the first row next to her sister-in-law and father. Front row seats, how fitting.

James glares over at Harry’s father on the front row across the aisle. Tony has chosen to be seated on Ste’s side of the wedding party with the street rat’s sisters and those two brats. Just like Harry said, Ste’s more of a son to Tony than he is. The man is ecstatic and cheerful, talking animatedly with some guests. He’s got a handkerchief ready in his hand for when the waterworks start. He’s going to need it. James has no sympathy for the man. Yes, it’s awful that his daughter is ill but his behaviour towards his eldest son through the years has been appalling.

The music starts and, of course, who else but the clown is officiating the ceremony. James has never seen colours clash as violently as the three suits at the top of the aisle. It’s the worst eyesore he’s ever seen. After a winded commencement speech by the clown, they’re moving on to the next step of the quite frankly laughable ceremony.

James has a clear view of his lover’s face because Ste, ever the imbecile, took the wrong position by the alter. It’s a gracious reprieve at least that he doesn’t have to look upon the vile bleach blonde, the wedding itself is nauseating enough.

He feels sick to his stomach having to sit there and watch Harry force himself to get married to that detestable creature just to keep his family happy. They’re holding hands but he can tell that Harry is struggling with a sincere smile. At least it won’t last long. The charade will end any minute now. James looks at his watch. It’s fifteen past one.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” the clown calls out over-theatrically to the crowd.

The rumbling of a thunderstorm can be heard from far away. The wind is picking up too and a few larger raindrops have started falling from the grey sky. It’s a fitting stage for the scenes that are about to play out.

“Last chance for any of yous to get your hands on me,” Ste is grinning at the guests, taking it as a joke. He’ll be sorely mistaken in a few seconds.

Harry’s big blue eyes find James’s while Ste is busy making a spectacle of himself. James can’t quite interpret the look in them this time, parts are pleading for help, others scared and nervous. It doesn’t add up with Harry’s earlier request for James to leave him to be wed.

Whatever it is that lays hidden behind his lover’s eyes, he hopes Harry won’t hate him when the plan sets into motion. He just wants what’s best for the young man. He knows his plan is extreme and over the top but he’s never really been able to do things by half measures. Hopefully, Harry will understand.

James looks down at his watch again, it’s twenty past one now. If only the most vital part of the plan wasn’t running so late. He rather not have to sit through some cringe-worthy set of vows and even less does he want to have to witness the disgusting kiss that will seal the deal.

If the plan hasn’t been set into motion before Harry has to sign the wedding licence then James is going to have to do something to stop the wedding himself. He can’t let Harry marry Ste, same-sex couples can’t get an annulment based on non-consummation according to British law, which means that Harry will be stuck being Ste’s legal husband for a full year. And that won’t help the upcoming events in a few months.

He twists around impatiently, looking to the entries of the village for any sign of movement. But the streets are empty and the air silent. Verity nudges his arm and he twists back facing forward again, giving her a tight smile to not arouse any suspicions.

“No objections then. Last chance,” the clown register laughs and so do all the guests, Harry’s father most of all.

Harry begins to shift his weight where he stands. He lets go of Ste’s hands and looks to the ground. Alarm bells are ringing out in James’s head. This isn’t good.

“I.. l..,” his lover starts mumbling but James can’t let him go through with it. He can’t let Harry be hated by his family when Ste is the real criminal and the one that should be banished for all time.

James stands up abruptly from his seat and everything falls silent. He has to do something but he’s not sure what exactly. Harry’s eyes are large and round staring over at him. The guests do the same. It’s only Ste that is too dumb to notice what’s going on behind his back.

Verity hisses at him and tugs at his coat sleeve, trying to make him sit down again. Seconds feel like an eternity but then finally the cavalry turns up. Two silent police cars drive up through the archway. James takes his seat, hoping his little interruption will be forgotten now the bigger one has arrived.

His old golfing friend DS Thorpe and four police constables roll up at the scene. Better late than never. They quickly jump out of the vehicles and make their way into the wedding. People are gasping and whispering, wondering what’s going on. Once again Ste’s too dumb to even notice.

The police constables march down the aisle and DS Thorpe follows closely behind. The detective nods at James in greeting before he steps up to the grooms. Verity keeps giving him questioning looks but he ignores her. There are far more important things happening that requires his attention now.

“Steven Hay. I am arresting you on suspicion of acts under terror laws and the inciting of racial hatred and of publishing threatening, abusive or insulting comments online. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?”

“What? Get your bloody hands off! You can’t arrest me! I haven’t done nothing!” Ste shouts as the constables bring his hands behind his back.

“What’s going on? Let him go! Ste wouldn't do that, it’s all those other ones he hangs around with!” Tony stands up, protesting loudly as expected.

Harry steps away from Ste. His face looking as in shock. James isn’t sure if it’s a good sign or a bad one.

More people get out of their seats and there’s a bit of a commotion. Ste’s sisters are protesting the arrest along with Tony. They all corner DS Thorpe, demanding answers. There are children crying and Harry’s stepmother takes them into the restaurant. Harry’s grandfather is ushering wedding guests into the restaurant too, urging them to stay there and enjoy the food.

“Wait! Wait! Harry! Just let me talk to him!” Ste wails, fighting to get back to Harry.

James gives DS Thorpe an affirming nod and the detective signals for the constables to halt their movements. James isn’t sure what he’s doing but he wants to hear what Harry’s got to say as Ste pleads with him.

“You can’t just come here and ruin our wedding. Let us sign the papers so we can be married at least,” Ste requests from the detective.

DS Thorpe doesn’t say anything so Ste carries on with his plan. It’s obvious to James what Ste’s trying to achieve but he knows DS Thorpe won’t let it get that far.

“Harry, don’t just stand there, you useless git. Go sign the paper. Now!” Ste orders. “Or they’ll use you against me,” he attempts to whisper. He’s not very bright though as all the police officers that surround him still can hear him loud and clear and so can everyone else at the square.

Harry steps up to Ste and James feels like he’s watching a suspense thriller. “I’m not signing anything. We are over Ste. Done. I never wanna see you again,” Harry spits out and pulls out a ring from his trouser pocket and throws it forcefully on the ground.

James sighs with relief. For a brief moment, he was worried that Harry might fall back into playing the dutiful son and boyfriend routine and do whatever Ste asks of him. He’s very happy to be proven wrong.

Tony looks gobsmacked after his son’s decision and James hopes this hasn’t turned father against son. Harry’s biggest concern was losing his family when trying to part ways with Ste. But surely Tony can’t fault his son for leaving a racist behind?

As expected Ste starts screaming blue murder, loud and whiny. The bleach blonde is fighting against the constables again trying to break free. “After everything I’ve done for you! You ungrateful little shit!”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes. “If you mean making my life a misery? Then yeah, thanks for that.”

Ste’s two children are held back as the constables usher their father away. The gobby mouth is still screaming and shouting for the injustice the police are doing him. James can tell that Harry feels bad for the children’s sake but he also knows that they’re not left on their own. They have two aunts they are already living with and Tony is like a grandfather to them. They’ll be alright. Steven Hay, on the other hand, is a horrible human being, hopefully, sentenced to rot away in prison for a long time. Not fit for parenthood and most definitely not worthy or Harry Thompson.

“You’re a racist, Ste. A far-right goon. You deserve everything that’s coming to you!” Harry calls after his now ex-fiance as the constables push Ste into the flashing police car and drive off.

James is impressed. Harry isn’t holding back. He’s making a clear stand against the man that’s crippled his dreams and kept treating him like the naive 17-year-old schoolboy he used to be. It is finally over.

Tony is visibly distraught and he’s pacing back and forth. DS Thorpe told Tony in detail about the different charges but the man still makes loud claims to not believe that Ste could be responsible for such horrible crimes. It’s baffling how Tony can be so ignorant of his precious Ste’s curricular activities and still blame it all on the other members of the group. Ste’s a grown man, he knows what he’s doing and needs to be punished accordingly.

Tony is begging Verity to go down to the station with him and represent the cockroach. She declines, blaming her London schedule on her refusal. Tony looks to James then, eyes pleading. He shakes his head in response, stating the same excuse as Verity. Truth is he wouldn’t represent Ste for all the money in the world.

Tony grumbles and swears annoyed by their refusals. Tony has still not addressed Harry who’s been stood quietly watching his father. Instead of speaking with his real son, he hauls a cab to follow his pretend one to the police station.

The village square is emptying out. The wind is coming in harder and the raindrops have turned sideways. Half the guests have left to return to their homes while the rest take shelter inside the restaurant. Verity disappears into The Hutch with her father, the two of them in deep discussion over Ste’s involvement with the far-right. Harry has slipped away into the restaurant too, most likely to make his excuses to the wedding guests.

James moves to stand under the big arch that runs through the village, taking shelter from the rain. He’s waiting for Harry to come outside again. He can’t approach his lover inside the restaurant in front of all his family, Verity is already suspicious enough.

The minutes tick by slowly and he shivers feeling quite cold. Even the arch can’t protect him from the rain carried towards him by the accelerating wind.

He sees his lover head upstairs to the flat fifteen minutes later. He’s almost sure that Harry glances back in his direction and James decides to follow him. He’s looking over his shoulder feeling a tad paranoid, making sure no one sees him on his quest. It would be less than ideal if they were found out now after all the things he had to do to make the arrest happen.

As he approaches the blue door of the flat he can see that it’s been left ajar. So Harry _did_ see him and is expecting him too. His stomach flutters at the thought of them finally being reunited as he pushes the door open. The flat is quiet, he knows all its other residence are currently downstairs in the restaurant. He’s beyond grateful for a moment of peace together with Harry.

He’s back in the bedroom. His lover got his back turned to him but James knows the young man knows he’s there. Harry’s tugging the bowtie loose from around his neck and undoes the top two buttons of his shirt. The suit jacket comes off too and he throws it on the bed. James closes the door behind them.

When Harry finally turns around he looks tense and it’s not what James was expecting to see. He realises that he’s lulled himself into a false sense of victory. Harry’s reaction to the arrest and the rejection of his now ex has made him momentarily forget that Harry did ask him _not_ to interfere. He’s reminded of it again as Harry’s narrowed eyes find his.

“You called the cops on Ste?”

It wasn’t his initial plan to cause such a big scene. He had hoped that DS Thorpe would have been able to make the arrest quietly before the wedding even started. But Ste is a lot more heavily involved in the far-right than James had first thought. The police task force needed to do several co-ordinated arrests in the village as well as in Chester the same time as Ste’s arrest and that was what made the minutes tick away to hours.

James was lucky he had a trump card up his sleeve. He’s been holding on to it for a couple of years now. Without threatening to reveal the sexual affair he had with a highly esteemed, happily married and closeted, self-hating MI5 director none of this would have been possible to set up in just a few hours. Sometimes even James has to resolve to blackmail to get what he wants. It’s nothing’s he’s proud of, using another man’s sexuality against him but sometimes needs must. It was worth it for Harry.

He already knows what’s coming next from Harry but he rather not hear it said out loud, a simple ‘yes’ is sufficient enough. “I know what you’re gonna say. It’s all over between us and you never wanna clap eyes on me again. Sound about right?” he states resigned.

There’s no response from his lover, only a deep frown etched on his face. James knew this was a risk. He may have freed Harry from Ste and given him a chance at a better future but he may very well have ended theirs.

He inhales deeply through his nose, his body tense and rigid with nerves. He needs to try and make Harry understand at least. It’s worth one last desperate attempt. It’s the only chance he’s got of winning him back now.

“You _must_ know that I _do_ care about you, Harry? That’s why I couldn’t do what you asked, I couldn’t just sit back and watch you suffer,” he pleads, the words leaving his mouth rapidly. His back is bending down to Harry’s height and his hands gesture along with his words, desperately trying to make sense. “You deserve so much better. You’re smart, funny, clever. You have your whole future ahead of you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you trapped for one more day. And even worse, married to that _thing_ ,” the last word comes out as if it’s poison on his tongue.

James takes a step closer, wanting to reach out and touch Harry’s shoulder but he stops himself. He can’t bear to have Harry recoil from him like he did the last time they stood in this room. His heart is hammering away in his chest, overflowing with emotions. He’s bracing himself for the oncoming rejection. This will surely spell the end of them now.

Even deeper frown lines mark Harry’s forehead and the young man steps up to him. “You didn’t get my voicemail, did you?”

Now he’s utterly confused, his own forehead furrowing with deep questioning lines. “What voicemail?” He reaches inside his suit pocket to fish out his phone but he doesn’t get very far.

Harry surges forward catching his face between his hands and crashes their lips together. It’s the last thing he was expecting and it takes James a few seconds to understand what’s happening. When he does, he presses in harder but continues to let Harry take the lead, happy to be at the mercy of his lover. The young man’s lips move over his almost desperately, kissing him with ardour. It’s more than James could have hoped for.

Eventually, they have to pull apart for some much-needed air. They both breathe heavily, wearing matching grins. It almost feels too good to be true. James drags his hand over his forehead, still filled with a sense of shock.

Harry’s smile beams up at him, hands still caressing James’s cheeks, fingers gliding soothingly over his beard. “Thank you, for not listening to me. This is perfect. My dad’s not exactly thrilled but I don’t think he blames me.”

James smiles, relieved by his lover’s words. “I never wanted to mess things up between you and your family. But you shouldn’t have to be a martyr for them. This wedding wouldn’t have magically cured your sister, no matter how much your father wants it to. Her illness shouldn’t dictate your future,” he points out, making sure to further clarify his actions.

“I know, I know,” Harry sighs heavily, dragging a hand down his face. “You were right before, everything you said, I know that. I shouldn’t have gone through with the wedding. I can’t keep being someone I’m not just to make my father and Ste happy.”

James places his palm on Harry’s soft cheek and his lover presses into his touch. He rubs his thumb slowly back and forth, looking into those beautiful blue eyes, shining clearer than before. “You shouldn’t have to,” he says gently, smiling softly. “Just enjoy being Harry Thompson with all his glorious flaws.”

Harry’s smiles at him tenderly, eyes sparkling with affection and filled with renewed confidence. His lover leans up, kissing him again. Just a soft one, sweet and loving and it fills James with even more devotion and desire for the young man.

“How did you even manage to get Ste arrested?” Harry asks, sliding his hands down James’s damp coat before he steps away and starts undoing his waistcoat.

James quirks his eyebrow and smirks. “Well, first I ran a background check on your delightful fiance, found out a thing or two. I have some connections in Homeland security as well as in the police department. I managed to pull a few strings to get them to advance the arrest order they had on him and his group. It was scheduled for next month. I just expedited it.”

“Look, James,” Harry says stepping up to him again. His eyes flitters nervously and he sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You must think I’m crazy for staying with someone like that but.. I was scared. Okay? Those people he hangs around with are dangerous. I was worried they were gonna come after me or my family

“You don’t have to explain. I understand.” He takes a deep breath, exhaling through the nose, bracing himself for the upcoming moment. No one except his mother and siblings knows this about him. “I know what it’s like..” He stops and licks his lips, swallowing hard, eyes falling down to the floor. “..to be too afraid to speak up. Fearful that they’ll hurt you so bad they’ll kill you or worse, hurt the rest of your family.”

“Your-.”

He cuts Harry off before he can finish the question. “My father,” he says, finally feeling strong enough to look Harry in the eyes.

“I’m so sorry, James.”

Harry pulls him in for a hug. He has to bend down to accommodate to Harry’s much shorter height. It should be awkward but it’s not. He lets out a shaky breath and wraps his arms tightly around Harry’s back, chests pressed together. He feels his lover bury his nose into the crook of his neck. It’s calming and serene having Harry in his arms again but most of all it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He closes his eyes taking it all in. They both need this.

“Harry!” Tony’s sharp voice breaks their emotional moment like a sledgehammer to glass and James knows they have to pull apart.

Harry quickly steps away from him before his father walks in on them. It wouldn’t do well for the family peace if Tony sees James pressed against his son’s body in an intimate embrace, making all of James’s hard work undone.

Tony rips the bedroom door open. He doesn’t look very happy. James has got a good mind to give Tony a word or two on how he’s been treating his son but he knows he has to bite his tongue. He smiles his best fake smile at Tony, pressing his lips together. “Well, if you need any more legal advice you have my card,” he addresses Harry, leaving the two men to talk.

“Thank you, James,” Harry calls after him and he turns to see a small but grateful smile on Harry’s tender face hidden from Tony’s view.

The happiness he feels only lasts for a brief second. Tony slams the door in his face as soon as he steps out of the room. He turns around and the rest of Harry’s family are gathered in the living room. They all look a bit shaken by the day’s turn of events.

“He dodged a bullet there, our Harry did,” Harry’s grandfather says and the rest of the family concurs that indeed, Harry is better off away from Ste. It’s something at least. If only Harry’s father could understand that as well.

Tony’s loud accusing voice can be heard through the flat. He’s angry that Harry didn’t stand by Ste’s side during the arrest and it’s enough to make James’s headache return. He tries to block out the guilt-tripping reasonings Tony is listing off for Harry to have remained with Ste. If he doesn’t hear it he won’t have to try and hold himself back from returning to the room and give Tony a piece of his mind.

His hands clench into fists and his jaw is set with tension trying to hold himself off. Verity narrows her eyes at him. He pretends he doesn’t see it. But his business partner doesn’t let him get away so easily. He should have known. She pulls him to the side, crossing her arms over her chest. “What were you two doing in there?” she asks in her cross-examination voice.

“Just giving your nephew some legal advice. You know they’ll call him as a witness against that-,” he clears his voice, stopping the insult wanting to roll off his tongue, “..his ex. I’ll make sure the police will keep an eye out in case there’ll be any retribution.” He tries to keep his tone as much devoid of emotions as he can, enrobing his full solicitor persona. Hopefully, it will erase any further suspicion.

“James, this is a family matter.” Verity takes him by the arm and steers him towards the front door. “Why don’t you go down to the restaurant and wait for me there? Have yourself some food. Drink some wine. And then we’ll head back to London.”

He can’t refuse her request. It would only look odd and more suspicious if he did. He doesn’t want to leave Harry like this, without even a proper goodbye but he has no choice in the matter. He can hear Harry’s raised voice muffled behind the bedroom door in full discussion with his father.

“I was spiralling after prison but no one cared. I was desperate to make it work again, for Ste, for the kids, for you. I tried! Okay? And I tried, I really did. But the truth is, my heart wasn’t in it. I can’t live under a rock for the rest of my life because of what I did. I’m genuinely sorry, Dad, you know that. Okay? And Ste, he’s a racist, you can’t pretend you haven’t seen it because I know you have. I’ve been wanting out for a long time but I didn’t know how. The best thing for all of us is to move on with our lives.”

Harry is laying all his cards out in the open, trying to make his father see that his love for Ste isn’t as unwavering as Tony’s, that he can’t keep paying for his past mistakes. Harry doesn’t need James to fight his battles for him, he’s perfectly capable himself. James always knew he was. Harry just needed someone to help him get there.

He smiles to himself feeling proud of his lover. He steps out of the flat and outside it’s raining quite heavily. A clap of thunder roars through the air. The wind is coming in hard and a bright flash zigzags through the darkened sky. He pulls his coat tightly around himself and hurries down the steps to the Hutchinson family restaurant as instructed. He’s actually quite hungry. He’s not really eaten anything since last night’s supper.

He can hear the gossiping of the arrest in full swing inside the restaurant. The few wedding guests that remain are seated along several long tables lined with green table cloths and orange flowers. The ugly balloons are floating along the ceiling. The horrendous weddingdecorations are as bad inside as out.

There’s a buffet set up on the side by the kitchen counter and he fills a plate. Nothing looks terribly appetizing but he picks the safest options, green salad, bread and butter, oven-baked chicken with rice and sauce. He sits down at the bar counter, as far away from the rest of the guests as he can manage and pours himself a full glass of red wine. He’s in no mood for fake politeness and small talk this afternoon. The only person he wants to talk to is Harry.

He pulls out his phone leaving a message for DS Thorpe about arranging some protection for the Hutchinsons. As he hangs up he remembers Harry mentioning a voicemail. He forgot about it as soon as Harry’s lips crashed to his.

He scrolls through the phone and in his missed calls log is a number with no name. It came through about a half-hour before the wedding started, five minutes after Verity had taken his phone and put it on mute. His messages show a received voicemail in his inbox. He plays it back.

_“James, it’s me. Why aren’t you picking up? Listen, forget what I said. Okay? I do want you to object. My little sister, she’s gonna be alright. The doctor says she’s gonna make a full recovery. So this wedding isn’t about family anymore, it’s about love. And I don’t love Ste. I haven’t for a long time. But with you.. I feel happy for the first time in a very long time ... You..you see me better than anyone. It just feels right, y’know? So please, if you still want me - stop the wedding. And we-”_

Ste’s voice shows up in the background and Harry doesn’t get to finish what he was going to say. The street rat is asking Harry who he’s talking to and that’s when the message ends. Now James understands why Harry was looking at him so intently when the clown called out for any objections, his lover was expecting him to say something but James never did.

It doesn’t matter now. It all worked out for the best, even better. Harry is unscathed from wagging fingers and gossiping tongues about him being a cheat. Harry’s family isn’t throwing him out for leaving Ste, although, his father didn’t sound too pleased. Ste’s been brought to justice, hopefully getting what he deserves - a long stretch in prison. And Harry’s little sister has made a miracle recovery.

He smiles to himself, thinking of what Harry told him in that voicemail. How James makes him feel happy, that James is the only one who truly can see him for all that he is. That they have an undeniable connection. It’s more than he ever could have hoped for, words he never heard spoken so sincerely and straight from the heart. He makes sure to save it to his cloud so he can cherish it forever. He never had a man make a love declaration like that to him before.

He hums content by the positive outcome of the day. Things are just as they should be. Well, almost as they should. James still desperately wants to see Harry again. He wants to make some kind of plans, some kind of arrangement for when and how they can see each other. He doesn’t mind sneaking around and keeping it a secret, he almost prefers it because then it’ll be just the two of them without any interruptions. But especially because he would be free of any unsolicited relationship advice from Verity.

He still doesn’t know how his business partner will react when she finds out that James is dating her nephew. She will surely prod him with questions, she’s already suspicious enough. Are they even dating? He doesn’t even know what this whole new thing means for them. If only he had _some_ notion of what’s going to happen next and what Harry wants then he wouldn’t have to feel so jittery about it. Patience most certainly isn’t James’s virtue.

The food isn’t tasty enough to get a second helping. The wedding cake is bland and boring and looks like an orange blob. The wine is the only thing that is up to an almost decent standard so he pours himself another glass waiting for Verity to turn up or even better - Harry.

Almost two hours pass before Verity shows up at the restaurant. She tells him she’s ready to go back to London again and then turns on her heel leading the way out. The worst of the storm seems to have passed. According to his weather app, the high-speed winds missed the village by a few kilometres. It’s still raining outside and they briskly head to the car that’s waiting for them by the arch.

James turns back to gaze up at the Hutchinsons flat. Like a romantic fool, he’s hoping to see Harry out on the landing. But it’s empty. There’s no sight of his lover there or anywhere else in his periphery.

“Shouldn’t we say our goodbyes to your family first?” he tries to ask as casually as possible. He really wants to see Harry one last time before he has to leave. Just to look into his lover’s eyes and be reassured that they want the same thing.

“Already done. I can’t wait to get out of here. It’s been a bizarre day, to say the least.”

They were supposed to stay another night if the wedding dragged out into the early hours. Their suitcases still sit in their suites at The Chester Grosvenor Hotel. He had hoped that Verity would want to stay regardless. It would give him more time to sneak off and talk to Harry. But alas Verity is set on going and he has no excuse that is plausible enough for him to stay another night on his own.

“Oh, by the way, since you seem so interested in my family’s private affairs,” Verity says as they get into the car. “My niece, she’s going to make a full recovery. The doctor called about an hour before the wedding. Should take my brother’s mind off this whole Ste thing.”

“How fortunate.” He wishes she would have told him before the ceremony started. It would have made him feel less like a monster about going against Harry’s wishes.

The rest of the ride back to the hotel is quiet. He stares out the rain stained window feeling like a lovelorn teenager. He knows he can just call Harry up. It’s not as if they have no ways of communicating but even thirty minutes feels too long to wait until he’s alone again.

When they arrive in Chester, Verity insists on getting their bags and to check them out of the hotel. He remains seated in the car waiting for her. He has a strong dislike of other people touching his things but he doesn’t object this time. All he wants is to be left on his own away from Verity’s prying ears so he can make the much-needed call.

He pulls out his phone and finds Harry’s number in the missed calls log again and saves it to his contacts. He adds it to his favourites list too. His thumb is hovering over the call button when his phone starts ringing.

He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and groans, it’s Arthur Murray. His new client with the high profile merger. The one he was rewarded with for attending the wedding. He has to answer it. He can’t afford to lose their confidence this early on in the process.

The conversation with Mr Murray ends as Verity returns with their bags. It’s just his luck. Now he will have to wait an additional four hours until he can finally give Harry a call. It puts him in an even moodier mood. He knows he’s being petulant and needy but he can’t help it. Everything is so brand new he’s overrun by a flurry of emotions and longing to see his lover again.

They pull out from the hotel and drive through Chester. They head down the same street he walked back to the hotel with Harry last night. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips from the memories that arise. They were draped around each other, laughing and stealing kisses the whole way back. So much has happened since then, in some strange way, it feels like a lifetime ago.

The car turns the corner and he’s staring aimlessly out the window again. Verity is about to make another turn to exit the city centre when he spots something familiar and his eyes widen.

A dark blonde mass of short hair is moving towards the entry of the Chester train station.

“Stop the car!”

The crowd disperses and James can see the cognac coloured jacket with white lining. The dark blue pair of denim jeans cling to the thighs and ass leaving nothing to the imagination. Just like last night. It can’t be anyone else than the man that’s occupied his brain nonstop for the past 20 hours. It feels like so much longer though.

Verity has pulled to a stop, face set with bewilderment by his sudden and very loud request. The rain is coming down hard but he doesn’t care. He steps out of the car and calls after his lover.

“Harry!”

But there’s no sign of Harry having heard him over the loud noise of the busy traffic flowing around the station. A big rucksack sits on the young man’s back and he disappears into the building and out of sight.

“I think I’ll take the train back,” James announces, leaning down looking over at Verity’s very amused face.

“Choosing the slum of public transport over my Porsche? My, oh my. My nephew’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he? I knew something was going on,” she notes, quirking her eyebrow teasingly. “Oddly enough, I think the two of you make the perfect match actually. This could be the start of something really good, for both of you,” she adds kindly.

She has a sincere smile on her face, quite the departure from her usual snarky poshness. He doesn’t need Verity’s blessing but he appreciates it nonetheless. Her words regarding his and Harry’s compatibility warms a great deal in his heart, feeding it with even more hope.

He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, rushing in head over heels. It should be much too soon to tell but the time he has spent with Harry has made him hopeful for a future shared together. Finding someone he can tolerate is rare. Finding someone who makes the pit of his stomach flutter, even rarer. If not a completely new occurrence altogether.

His coat is quickly getting drenched by the heavy rain. He makes haste, grabbing his suitcase from the boot of the car. There’s a whole load of bags in there stuffed together and some cardboard boxes too. Things that most definitely weren’t there when they drove up from London. He doesn’t have time to deduce what it means now but he’s got an idea.

He needs to catch Harry before he leaves to God knows where. He rushes into the train station, his suitcase rolling loudly over the stone floor. James can’t see him anywhere. There are too many people flitting about. It’s Friday afternoon rush hour and commuters are flooding every area of the building. He pulls out his phone and calls him.

Of course, nothing is easy in life. Harry’s phone is turned off and the call goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up before the pre-recorded message ends. What is he even supposed to say? _‘Where are you going? Let me come with you?’_ He’s a 32-year-old man. How desperate can he sound without looking ridiculous?

“Harry!” he calls out to the swarming mass of people instead. Still desperate but slightly less embarrassing, perhaps.

A few men turn their heads but none of them _his Harry_. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. He’s ready to pull out his phone again and leave that desperate voicemail after all. The hell with pride.

“Oi, Nightingale. Looking for someone?” a voice asks from behind him. He’d know that voice anywhere. Sweet but playful. _His Harry’s_.

James spins around so quickly he almost pulls a muscle in his neck. Harry is like a vision. The big bright smile shines almost as blinding as the beautiful light in his blue eyes. No sorrow. No despair. Only happiness and relief. James feels the same way, his smile mirroring Harry’s in strength.

Harry slips his hand behind James’s neck pulling him down for a long kiss. He doesn’t care who sees them, he’s too happy to be stopped by his discomfort with public displays of affection.

Harry’s lips glide over his as thrillingly as if it’s the first time all over again. He cradles his lover’s soft cheek in his hand, kissing him over and over and pulling him in closer. “Thought I’d lost you,” he pants out, taking a quick breath and then their mouths join again.

“Yeah! Go on lads!” an unknown spectator calls out in support from behind them. The wolf whistle that follows startles them out of their private revere for each other.

Harry laughs and looks around them before his eyes return to James. “I’m sure you’d have found me one way or another,” Harry grins, tugging on James’s wet coat lapel. “Aunt Verity said I could stay at hers.”

“She kept that quiet.” He had a suspicion when he saw Verity’s boot filled up to the brink with luggage. He was hoping it belonged to Harry and that he was planning on moving down closer to London. This was even better.

“Yeah, kinda wanted to tell you myself,” Harry smiles sunny with a hint of bashfulness.

James slides his hand over Harry’s cheek again, bubbling with excitement for what’s to come now they’ll be living a stone’s throw away from each other. “A very pleasant surprise, indeed,” he smiles and leans down for a soft press of their lips.

The train station is starting to dwindle down in commuters and they find an empty bench to sit down on. Harry slings his heavy rucksack to the floor and grunts, making James quirk his brow at him. “Thought you were young and muscular?” James pokes him in his bicep and smirks. “My very own little Hercules.”

Harry snorts and narrows his eyes at him playfully and pats the densely packed rucksack that looks ready to burst at the seams. “I wanna see you, Mr Hotshot lawyer, try and carry this massive load on your back.”

Harry sits up taller next to him, placing his arm on the backrest behind James. “You must be cold,” Harry points out, rubbing his hand over James’s damp coat shoulder. Warm fingers trail up to his neck, stroking over the patch of cold skin exposed above his collar. James leans into his lover’s touch, his body heating up to maximum thanks to Harry’s presence around him.

Their thighs are pressed firmly against each other as they get comfortable on the wooden bench. James can’t help but place his hand on top of his lover’s meaty thigh, squeezing into the dense flesh hidden beneath the solid fabric.

The skin-tight dark denim jeans are less enticing, knowing how hard they were to get off last time Harry wore them. “Why are you wearing this chastity device again?” James questions, frowning down on the offending piece of clothing.

Harry chuckles. “I got Verity’s key,” he reveals, fishing it out of his jean pocket and showing it to him like it holds the answer to everything. “I knew I had at least an hour to spare until Verity had dropped you at your place. So I was gonna get a shower, slip into something more comfortable,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and his blue eyes glisten excitedly. “Asked her for your address, brought champagne and chocolates and gone over to surprise you,” he concludes, relaying his plan proudly.

Warmth pools in James’s belly, filling up with even more affection by the young man’s revelation. It’s sweet, extremely sweet and romantic of Harry to plan a surprise like that. No one has ever put any thought into surprising James with anything before. He never felt the urge to do anything similar for someone either but he’d love to do it for Harry.

To be honest he’s almost disappointed that Harry’s little surprise won’t happen now. “I would have loved that,” James cooes and Harry grins happily, leaning in for a kiss again.

“We can still do all that,” Harry says as if he’s read James’s mind. “I nicked a bottle from the wedding and I grabbed my step-mom’s duty-free box of chocolates. She likes the fancy stuff so thought that’d suit you.”

“Aw, how thoughtful of you and criminal,” he teases his lover.

“Hey!” Harry exclaims, pointing at him, lips still smiling. “You said you liked criminal me! I’m only trying to fulfil your fantasy here,” he smirks, blue eyes sparkling. It’s wonderful seeing Harry so relaxed and carefree that he can even make a joke about his criminal record.

“I mean it, it’s very thoughtful. Thank you,” James tells him sincerely, all jokes aside. It truly means a lot him. “And so you know, I only live 5 minutes away from Verity. You can pop around whenever you like.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That’s the best news I had all day, well apart from the wedding being cancelled,” he laughs. “Gonna save loads on bus fare now.”

“Speaking of weddings. What happened with your dad? I heard some of the ludicrous things he said to you. Heard a bit of what you said to him too.”

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles, pulling a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, I think he’s mostly shocked that I don’t fancy Ste as much as he does. I tried to explain it but he is still angry and disappointed. But you know what? I think this is gonna be good, actually. Getting some breathing space and time apart. The rest of my family is on my side so he’ll come around, eventually,” Harry smiles lopsidedly and there’s a trace of hurt in his blue eyes.

It doesn’t come as a great surprise that Harry’s father still can’t accept his son’s choices and reasons for wanting to leave a toxic relationship. He agrees with Harry that getting some breathing space will do him good. And he can read between the lines, Harry still cares about his father and wants to keep him in his life. If it was up to James though, he would be perfectly happy to never have to lay eyes on Tony Hutchinson ever again.

Time is ticking down to the next train departing for London. He picks up Harry’s rucksack and helps the young man get it onto his back. It’s a lot heavier than he thought. His boyfriend, if he can call him that now, has a core strength he never thought possible in such a short man. Although he supposes, Harry isn’t overly short. He’s just quite a bit shorter than James, most people are. Harry’s not overly muscular either but he’s clearly stronger than he looks.

Harry smiles up at him tenderly and laces their fingers together. It’s almost embarrassing how much James feels like a giddy teenager. He can feel a heated blush over his cheeks as they walk off, hand in hand, towards the ticket office.

Harry already bought himself a second-class ticket for the 6 PM train before James came looking for him. James tries to upgrade their seats to first-class but there’s only one seat left available. The lady in the ticket office points to the half-off discount poster on the wall. He scoffs, of course, they had a bargain on the tickets. Things truly aren’t what they used to be in first-class anymore.

James reluctantly pays for his second class seat, there’s a first time for everything. He manages to sweet-talk the ticket lady into altering Harry’s assigned seat so they can sit together on the journey home. He refuses to spend two hours on a cramped train without Harry by his side. Luckily she finds them a free double seat in the last train car to the back wall. At least it will provide them with some more privacy than being stuck in the middle of the aisle.

When they have boarded the train Harry says he’s starving after the long exhausting day. Just like James, he tells him he was unable to get any breakfast down him. His head had been riddled with uncertainty over the wedding, coupled with regret of how he had left things with James that night. It’s nice to know he wasn’t the only one lingering in misery this morning over their abrupt ending.

Harry insists on treating James to their meal and heads off to the buffet car alone. He returns after 10 minutes with a paper bag in his hand and a big grin on his face.

“You’re a bad influence on me. Second class seats. Pizza and beer,” James lists off after Harry has revealed what they’re having for dinner. “Next, I’ll be signing up for private PT sessions.”

Harry bites his lip, eyes shining with mirth. “Feeling weak at the knees again, Nightingale?” The young man slides his hand over his knee, fingers slowly inching up higher.

James leans in closer to his beautiful face, gazing down at those sinful plump lips that are smirking at him. “Oh, you know I do,” he whispers lowly, aching to kiss his boyfriend again.

“Mmm,” Harry hums agreeing and their eyes meet again. “Must be that old age that’s getting to ya,” Harry teases gleefully.

James gasps. “Now who’s being cheeky?” Harry’s loud belly laugh drowns out against his lips as James pushes in hard to shut him up. It doesn’t work for long though. Harry pulls away still laughing with a beaming smile of mischief, blue eyes lit up with affectionate amusement.

James can easily get used to this. A lifetime of pure unadulterated love with someone who is not only fun, mischievous and playful but also intelligent and admirably idealistic with a beautiful soul. Who just so happens to be as messed up as he is.

THE END

(There will be an epilogue so it's not really the end yet, have a look out for part 2 of the "Plus One Series")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue will be posted as a sequel in the [Plus One series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952287). 
> 
> ❤️ Thank you all so much for reading❤️ Comments and Kudos as always very appreciated.❤️
> 
> I realised I teased the storm quite a bit in this story but the real storm was James   
> 😂
> 
> Again, sorry that chapter 1 endnotes show up here, it's a glitch on the website and nothing I can control.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert: It doesn't end like this 😉
> 
> Hope this wasn't too cringe and the sex felt real lol. Also hope they were in character. Since this is a love a first sight kind of a fic I needed to make James a bit more "out there" with his feelings. 
> 
> Fun Fact: On the show in the Jarry bedroom scene after the "maybe it will happen again" scene during the affair you can see a bottle of Clarins Eau Dynamisante on James's nightstand. If you haven't smelled it, you should! It's lovely. 
> 
> Another fun fact: I researched a bit for this fic so it does take about 4 hours to drive from London to Chester, there is a Chester Grosvenor Hotel, and there used to be a gay bar called 6T9 that's a 7 minute walk from the hotel 🤓
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated ❤️ Thank you for reading! Chapter two shouldn't take too many days to be posted 😃
> 
> PS. And as you all know - fuck BK and HO forever. I'm gonna be upset, angry, depressed about what they did to James and Harry for eternity. 💔


End file.
